Skip to main content

Full text of "Studies in honor of A. Marshall Elliott"

See other formats

LA. íy\o^rU^JjRcc^XCr 



Volume I 






d. H. FURST CO. 


The Following Students of Professor Elliott 
offer this book in grateful appreciation 

T. G. Ahrens 
B. C. Armstrong 
H. D. Austin 

A. H. Baxter 

D. S. Blondheim 

F. A. Blossom 

B. L. Bowen 

G. G. Brownell 
J. D. Bruner 
M. P. Brush 

D. L. Buffum 
J. A. Child 

F. L. Critchlow 
A. E. Curdy 

E. P. Dargan 

F. De Haan 

D. B. Easter 

E. A. Fay 

J. A". Fontaine 

E. J. Fortier 
P. J. Frein 

F. L. Frost 
Samuel Garner 

C. F. Gloth 
W. E. Gould 
P. W. Harry 

J. A. Haughton 

H. C. G. von Jagemann 

S. S. Janney 

T. A. Jenkins 

O. M. Johnston 

A. D. Jones 
G. C. Keidel 


H. C. Lancaster 
G. G. Laubscher 
C. C. Marden 
J. F. Mason 
C. E. Mathews 
J. E. Matzke 
A. J. Morrison 
T. A. E. Moseley 
W. A. Nitze 
Phillip Ogden 
K. S. Patton 
W. T. Peirce 
W. H. Perkins 
R. E. Phillips 
J. E. Shaw 
J. S. Shefloe 

E. H. Sirich 
G. E. Snavely 
J. A. Sprenger 
W. A. Stowell 
H. P. Thieme 
H. A. Todd 
Oliver Towles 

F. M. Warren 
K. E. Weston 
George Whitelock 
J. R. Wightman 
E. H. Wilkins 

There have been collected in the accompanying volume a 
set of studies prepared by present or former members of 
the department of Romance Languages in the Johns Hopkins 
University and recent lecturers before that department. 
These studies were planned to celebrate the completion of 
Professor Elliott's thirty-fifth year of service in the University, 
and were to be offered to him as a mark of his pupils' 
esteem for their teacher and an evidence of the profit they 
had derived from his scholarly example. We would not have 
his death affect our purpose. On realizing the gravity of his 
disease, we told him of our desire, and afterwards kept him 
informed of the steps taken to accomplish it. And whatever 
misgivings we may have had, he never lost confidence in the 
success of the undertaking. So we feel that his personality 
has guided us from beginning to end. He did not look upon 
our work as a memorial of a career that is finished, nor do we. 
That memorial is to be found elsewhere, closely bound up 
with the place where he labored. These pages are an offering 
in his honor, a tribute to his intellectual activity, and a witness 
which we bring, in behalf of ourselves and our comrade who 
went before him, to the lasting influence of his ideals of 
instruction and investigation — an influence which it will be 
our privilege, we hope, to carry forward in a circle that ever 




Armstrong, E. C. (Johns Hopkins University), The French 
Shifts in Adjective Position and their English Equiv- 
alents 251-274 

Austin, H. D. ( University of Michigan ) , The Origin and 

Greek Versions of the Strange- Feathers Fable 305-327 

BÉDIER, J. ( University of Paris ) , La Légende des " En- 
fances " de Charlemagne et l'Histoire de Charles 
Martel 81-107 

Blondheim, D. S. ( University of Illinois ) , Etymological 

Notes (Fr. cadastre, Span, and Port, cerdo, cerda) . . 237-250 

Bowen, B. L. {Ohio State University), The Place of 

Chateaubriand as a Critic of Italian Literature. . . . 187-193 

Brush, M. P., Editor (Johns Hopkins University), Esopo 

Zuccarino 375-450 

Buffum, p. L. (Princeton University) , The Songs of the 

Roman de la Violette 129-157 

Curdy, A. E. (Yale University), The Versions of the Fable 

of the Peacock and Juno 329-346 

Dargan, E. P. (University of California), The Poetry of 

Sully-Prudhomme 195-208 

Jenkins, T. A., Editor ( University of Chicago ; , Le Contenz 

dou Monde, by Renaud d' Andón 53-79 

Keidel, G. C. (Johns Hopkins University) , Problems in 

Medieval Fable Literature 281-303 

Lancaster, H. C. (Amherst College), A Classic French 
Tragedy based on an Anecdote told of Charles the 
Bold 159-174 

Matzke, J. E. (Stanford University), The Roman du Châte- 
lain de Couci and Fauchet's Chronique 1-18 

NiTZE, W. A. (University of Chicago), The Castle of the 

Grail — an Irish Analogue 19-51 

Snavely, G. E., Editor (Allegheny College), The Ysopet of 

Jehan de Vignay 347-374 

Stowell, W. A. (Amherst College), Notes on the Etymology 

of bachelier 225-236 

Terracher, A. (Johns Hopkins University) , Le Pluriel du 
Démonstratif dans les Parlers populaires de l'Angou- 
mois (avec carte) 275-280 

Thieme, H. P. (University of Michigan) , Notes on Victor 

Hugo's Versification 209-224 

Todd, H. A., Editor (Columbia University) , An Unpublished 
Fourteenth Century Invocation to Mary Magdalen: 
Il est bien temps que je m'avise 109-128 

Warren, F. M. (Yale University) , French Classical Drama 

and the Comédie Larmoyante 175-185 



John E. Matzke 

In the long list of titles x constituting what is commonly 
known as the Cycle of the Eaten Heart two groups stand 
out distinctly. In the one the hero is slain by the husband 
of the lady whose love he has won, and it is the husband 
who cuts the heart from his victim's body. In the other 
group the hero, dying at a distance from his lady, commands 
his servant to carry his heart after his death to his lady as 
proof of his fidelity, and when the messenger arrives with 
his relic near the lady's castle, he meets with the husband and 
is forced by him to surrender the box which contains the 
hero's heart. 

In the n^ajority of the texts of either group the hero is 
a knight, but there is a distinct line of tradition appearing 
in both by which the cruel adventure is attributed to a poet. 
The matter would be simple if it could be shown clearly that 
the Provençal biography of the troubadour Guillem de Cabe- 
staing, the oldest of the texts showing this feature, were the 
source of this variation. But this view of the question has 
so far met with scant favor. The grouping of the texts 
involved is fraught with great difficulty, and consensus of 
opinion with reference to this relation has not yet been 
reached. This side of the problem I intend to discuss at 

1 See Patzig, Zur GeschicJite der Herzmare, Berlin, 1891, pp. 6-8; 
and Ahlstrom, Studier i den Fornfranska Lais-Litteraturen, Upsala, 
1892, pp. 127-129. 

1] 1 

2 MATZKE [2 

length at some future date in a larger study of the ' Legend 
of the Eaten Heart.' * The point which I have selected 
for examination here is concerned in the first place with the 
source and composition of the Roman du Châtelain de Conci, 
the representative text of the second group and at the same 
time the foremost literary member of the whole cycle. But 
in order to make this discussion clear it will be necessary 
at least to outline the claims of the three scholars who have 
given consideration to the problem. 

We may disregard here the Indian story published by 
Swynnerton in the Folklore Journal, Vol. I, 1883. The 
versions that concern us more directly are the Biography of 
Guillem de Cabestaing 2 and Boccaccio's story of Messer 
Guiglielmo Eossiglione e Messer Guiglielmo Guardastagno. 3 
The question is what relation these two stories hold to the 
French roman d'aventure. Gaston Paris believed 4 that a 
lost Provençal version was the source of both the Biography 
and the Italian story, and that from this lost version had 
sprung also a French version which in turn became the source 
of the Châtelain de Couci and several other texts related to 
it. Patzig 5 rejected this filiation and tried to prove that 
the Provençal Biography was Boccaccio's direct source, and 
that the French poem also derives from it, but that at least 
two intermediate forms of the story which have disappeared 
are necessary to explain the Old French poem and its closest 
congeners. Ahlstrom, 6 finally, derived the whole tradition in 
its literary form from the Guirun lay, sung by Isolt, according 
to the Thomas version. 7 Thru lost intermediate stages, but 
along independent lines, this story on the one hand became 

* See editor's note, infra, p. 16. 

2 See Mahn, Biographieen der Troubadours, 2d. éd., pp. 3 ss. ; and 
also Bartsch, Chr est ornatine provençale, cols. 231-234. 

3 Decamerone iv, 9. 

4 Romania vni, pp. 343-373, and xn, pp. 359-363. 
r 'Op. cit., p. 21. 6 L. c. 

7 See Bédier, Roman de Tristan, I, p. 295. 


the Biography from which. Boccaccio drew his material, and 
on the other gave the version found in the roman d'aventure. 

The Roman du Châtelain de Couci is rather inaccessible in 
its complete form, the only existing edition being that pub- 
lished by Crapelet in 1829. 8 The contents of the poem have, 
however, become familiar to students of medieval literature 
thru an article by Gaston Paris, 9 and more recently thru the 
long digest of the story by Langlois. 10 We may content 
ourselves therefore with a brief outline. 

The hero is Eenaut, Châtelain de Couci, the heroine is 
called Ja dame de Faiel. Eejected at first, the châtelain 
decides to win the love of his fair lady thru the fame that will 
cling to his name from evidences of eminence in the quali- 
fications of knighthood. The poem thus describes his visits 
to the castle of Faiel, recites tournaments in which he wins 
renown, and tells the hero's gradual conquest of his lady's 
heart. When she finally grants him her love, the visits are 
arranged with the greatest secrecy, and every precaution is 
taken to. make it appear that not the lady of Faiel, but Yzabel, 
her maid, is the object of the châtelain's love. Another lady 
falls in love with him. When her advances are disdained, 
she suspects- and discovers the secret, and informs the husband, 
who conceals himself and thus is able to interrupt one of these 
interviews. Yzabel now sacrifices her own reputation for that 
of her mistress. Outwitted but not convinced, the husband 
guards the lady carefully. Yzabel is sent away and further 
meetings of the lady of Faiel with the châtelain are made 

Now follows a series of stealthy visits in which Gobert, a 
faithful squire of the châtelain, who is able to play a double 

8 L'Histoire du Châtelain de Coucy et de la Dame de Fayel. I 
have in preparation a new edition of the poem which I hope to 
finish in the near future. 

9 Ro. vin, pp. 343-373; see also Hist, litt., xxvm, pp. 352-390. 

10 La Société française au XlIIe siècle, Paris, 1904, pp. 186-221. 

4 MATZKE [4 

rôle, being apparently the husband's spy, renders signal aid 
in the intrigue. The châtelain first takes cruel revenge upon 
the jealous lady who had betrayed his secret. Then during 
an absence of the husband, Gobert brings him to the castle of 
Faiel under the disguise of a knight wounded in a tourna- 
ment. This is followed by a pilgrimage to Saint-Maur-des- 
Fossés, which the lady is forced to undertake in the company 
of her husband. Passing thru a ford before a mill, she lets 
herself fall into the water and then enters the mill where the 
châtelain is waiting for her, while a servant is sent to fetch 
dry clothing. 

The husband, thoroly aroused, now announces his inten- 
tion to join the crusade and take his wife along, fully confi- 
dent that the châtelain would be informed of this plan and 
take the cross at the same time. Soon afterwards the 
châtelain comes to the castle disguised as a traveling 
merchant. He is told of the husband's decision, and in 
consequence he goes to England and joins the army of 
Eichard. So soon, however, as the husband learns .that his 
ruse has been successful, he refuses to take the cross. 

The châtelain now comes to the castle, disguised as a 
blind beggar, to say farewell, and the lady gives him a 
braid of her hair as a keepsake, to remind him of her love 
on the journey beyond the sea. 

These incidents are followed by the account of the crusade 
and the châtelain's death. After an absence of two }^ears, 
he is wounded during a battle by a poisoned arrow. The 
wound does not heal, and, desirous of seeing his lady again, 
he embarks to return to France. During the journey he 
grows worse, and, feeling death approaching, he commands 
Gobert to cut his heart from his body after his death, and 
to carry it in a box to the lady of Faiel, together with a 
letter which he dictates to a clerc and the braid of hair. 
Then he dies and is buried at Brindisi. 

The squire continues the journey. As he approaches the 
castle he meets the husband, who at once suspects his 


mission. He draws from Gobert the news of the châtelaines 
death, learns the contents of the box, takes it from him, and 
drives him away. Then he returns to the castle and com- 
mands his cook to prepare the heart for his lady's dinner. 
She lauds the taste of the dish, is told its nature, and is 
shown the box with the braid of hair and the letter. Saying 
that she will touch no other food after such a delicious 
meal, she swoons and dies. 

Fearful of the consequences of his action, the husband 
causes her to be buried with honors, but the lady's family 
suspects him of having caused her death, and he is forced to 
leave the country. He goes to the Holy Land, whence he 
returns after a long interval, and soon thereafter dies. 

A story closely similar in form was printed by Fauchet, 11 
who drew his version from a Chronique in his possession, 
now the property of the Bibliothèque Nationale} 2 It was 
Leopold Delisle who directed attention to this fact in 1879 
in a communication read before the Académie des Inscrip- 
tions. 13 I print this version, drawn anew from the manu- 

11 Recueil de l'origine de la langue et poésie françoise, Paris, 1581, 
pp. 124-128. 

12 Ms. fr. 5003, fos. 257 v. to 258 v. 

13 See the ^Comptes-rendus des séances de l'Académie des Inscrip- 
tions, 1879, p. 199, and a note by Gaston Paris in Ro. vin, p. 633. 
The MS. is described in the Catalogue des mss. fr. de la Bibl. Nat. 

(Paris, 1895) iv, p. 468, as follows: Chronique de France allant 
jusqu'au règne de Charles VI (1380). L'auteur a fait beaucoup 
d'emprunts aux anciens romans français. Le commencement manque 
.... Ce MS. a appartenu au président Fauchet, qui y a mis de 
nombreuses notes marginales. On lit en effet au fol. 1 et au fol. 386 
la note suivante : " A Claude Fauchet conseiller du roy, président 
en la cour des monnoies." Une main postérieure a ajouté (fol. 386) : 
" Il y a parmi les mss. de Me. Daguesseau, chancelier de France, une 
copie de cette chronique faite vers l'an 1550." Au fol. 381 sont 
plusieurs proverbes. Papier xv s. ... It is to the point to em- 
phasize here the fact that the marginal notes to be spoken of later 
are not the work of Fauchet, but were written by this unknown 
hand, apparently in the eighteenth century. 

6 MATZKE [6 

script, here in full both because of its importance, and because 
of the rarity and inaccessibility of Fauchet's work. It has 
been copied several times from the book in question, the last 
time, so far as I know, by F. Michel. 14 

[f. 257 v.] Ou temps que le roy Philippe regnoit et le roy 
Eichart d'Angleterre vivoit il avoit en Vermendois ung aultre 
moult gentil gallart preux chevalier en armes qui s'apeloit 
Regnault de Coucy, et estoit chastelain de Coucy. Ce che- 
valier fut moult amoureux d'unne dame du pays qui estoit 
femme du seigneur de Faiel. Moult orent de paine et travail 
pour leurs amours, ce chastelain de Coucy et la dame de Faiel 
si comme Pistoire le raconte qui parle de leur vie dont il 
y a Eomant propre. Or advint que quant les voyages d'oultre- 
mer se firent, dont il est parlé cy dessus, que les roys de 
France et d'Angleterre y furent, le chastelain de Coucy y 
fut pour ce qu'il exercitoit voulentiers les armes. La dame 
de Faiel, quant elle sceut qu'il s'en devoit aler, fist ung las 
de soye moult bel et bien fait, et y avoit de ses cheveux 
ouvrez parmi la soye dont l'euvre sembloit moult belle et 
riche, dont il lyoit ung bourrelet moult riche par dessus son 
heaulme et avoit loinz pendans par derrière a gros boutons 
de perles. Le chastelain ala oultremer a grant regret de 
laissier sa dame par dessa. Quant il fut oultre il fist moult 
de chevaleries, car il estoit vaillant chevalier et avoit grant 
joye que on rapportasi par dessa nouvelles de ses fais, affin 
que sa dame y print plaisir. Sy advint que a ung siege que 
les chrestiens tenoyent devant sarrazins oultre [f. 258 r.] mer 
ce chastelains fut féru d'un quarel ou costé bien avant, du 
quel coup il luy convint mourir. Sy avoit a sa mort moult 
grant regret a sa dame, et pour ce apela ung sien escuyer et 
lui dist : " Je te prie que quant je seray mort que tu pren- 
gnes mon cueur et le met en telle manière que tu le puisses 
porter en France a madame de Faiel et l'envelopes de ces 

14 Chansons du Châtelain de Couci, Paris, 1830. 


lenges ycy." Et hiy bailla le las que la dame avoit fait de 
ses cheveulx, et ung petit escriniet, ou il avoit plusieurs anelés 
et dyamans que la dame luy avoit donnez, qu'il portoit tous- 
jours avant luy pour l'amour et souvenance d'elle. Quant 
le chevalier fut mort ainsy le fit l'escuyer et prist l'escriniet 
et luy ovri le corps et prist le cueur, et sala et confit bien 
en bonnes espices, et mist en l'escrinet avecques le las de 
ses cheveulx et ung petit escrinet ou il avoit pluysieurs anelés 
et dyamans que la dame luy avoit donnez/ 5 et avecques unes 
lettres moult piteuses que le chastelain avoit escriptes a sa 
mort et signées de sa main. Quant l'escuyer fut retourné 
en France il vint vers le lieu ou la dame demouroit, et se 
bouta en ung boys près de ce lieu et luy mesavint tellement 
qu'il fut veu du seigneur de Faiel qui bien le congneut. Sy 
vint le seigneur de 16 Fayel atout deux de ses privez en ce 
boys et trouva cest escuyer auquel il voult courir sus ou despit 
de son maistre qu'il haioit plus que homme du monde. 
L'escuyer luy crya mercy, et le chevalier luy dist : " Ou je 
te ocirray ou tu me diras ou est le chastelain." L'escuyer 
luy dist qu'il estoit trespassé. Et pour ce qu'il ne l'en vouloit 
croire et avoit cest escuyer paour de morir il luy moustra 
l'escrinet pour l'en faire certain. Le seigneur de 17 Fayel 
print l'escrinet et donna congé a l'escuyer. Et le seigneur 
vint a son queux et luy dist qu'il mist ce cueur en si bonne 
manyere et Papparellast 18 en telle confiture que on en peut 
bien menger. Li queulx le fist et fist d'aultre viande 19 toute 
parelle et mist en bonne charpie en ung plat, et en fut la 
dame servie au disner, et le seigneur mengoit d'une autre 
viande qui luy ressembloit, et ainsy menga la dame le cueur 
du chastelain son amy. Quant elle ot mengé le seigneur luy 
demanda : " Dame, avez vous mengé bonne viande ? " Et 
celle luy respondy qu'elle l'avoit mengé bonne. Il luy dist: 

15 The MS. adds, et avec le las de ses cheveulx. 

16 Ms. du. "ms. du. 

18 MS. apparellasst. 19 ms. viaulde. 

8 MATZKE [8 

" Pour cela vous Fay je fait apparellier car c'est une viande 
que vous avez moult amee." La dame qui jamais ne pensast 
que ce fut n'en dist plus riens. Et le seigneur luy dist dere- 
chef : " Savez que vous 20 avez mengé ? " Et elle respondí 
que non. Et il luy dist : " Adont or sachez que vous avez 
mengé le cueur du chastelain de Coucy." Quant elle oyt ce, 
sy fut en grant pensee pour la souvenance qu'elle eust de son 
amy. Mais encore ne peust elle croire ceste chose jusques a 21 
ce que le seigneur luy bailla l'escrinet et les lettres, en quant 
elle vit les choses qui estoient dedens l'escrin, elle les cong- 
neut, si commença a lire les lettres. Quant elle congneut son 
signe manuel et les ensengnes, adont commença fort a changer 
et avoir couleur et puis commença forment a penser, et quant 
elle ot pensé elle dit a son seigneur : " Il est vray que ceste 
viande ay je moult amee et croy qu'il soit mort dont est 
dommage, comme du plus loyal chevalier du monde. Et vous 
m'avez fait menger son cueur, et est la dernière viande que 
je mengeray 22 oncques, ne oncques je ne men jay point de si 
noble ne de si gentil viande. Sy n'est pas raison que après 
si gentil viande je doye en mettre aultre dessus, et vous jure 
par ma foy que jamais je ne mengeray d'aultre viande après 
ceste cy." La dame leva du disner et s'en ala en sa chambre 
faisant moult grant douleur, et plus avoit de douleur qu'elle 
n'en moustroit la chiere. Et en celle doleur a grant regret 
et complaintes de la mort de son amy fina sa vie et mourut. 
De ceste chose fut le seigneur de Fayel couroucé, mais il n'y 
peut mettre remede, ne homme ne femme du monde. Ceste 
chose fut sceu par tout le pays et en ot grant guerre le seig- 
neur de Fayel aux amis de sa femme tant qu'il convint que 
la chose fut rapaisee du roy et des barons du pays. Ainsy 
finerent les amours du chastelain du Coucy et de la dame de 

This Chronique has so far not received the attention which 
20 Ms. vomz. 21 MS. ad. a ms. menjay. 


it merits. Beschnidt examined it rapidly in his dissertation, 
Die Biographie des Trobadors Guillem de Capestaing, 23 and 
came to the conclusion 2i that it is based partly on our 
roman d'aventure and partly on what was probably a Latin 
account of the story, and at the same time the real source of 
the Old French poem and the Provençal biography. Gaston 
Paris 25 rejected this theory and returned to the older belief 
that the Chronique represents nothing but a brief digest of 
the Old French poem. Patzig 2 ? examined it somewhat more 
carefully and noted some of its most striking features, but 
he did not go into the question at sufficient length, and in 
the end he accepted an explanation but slightly different 
from that proposed by Beschnidt. 

The initial difficulty of the problem lies in the clause of the 
Chronique : si come Vistoire le raconte qui parle de leur vie 
dont il y a romant propre. Together with others, both Be- 
schnidt and Patzig believed that the histoire and the romant 
propre are two different texts which the author of the 
Chronique combined. Yet it is evident that such a method 
would presuppose a critical attitude scarcely to be expected 
on the part of its author. We are ready, therefore, to accept 
the interpretation of the clause given by Gaston Paris : 'comme 
le raconte l'histoire de leur vie, car il existe un roman qui 
leur est particulièrement consacré.' However, even then the 
difficulty is not removed, for we shall presently see that the 
roman of which we know cannot have been the source of the 
Chronique. To meet this difficulty, the claim might be ad- 
vanced that another version of our story must have existed, 
also in the form of a roman d'aventure, as for example is 
true of Tristan or Floire et Blancheflor. There would be no 
way of substantiating this claim, but in support of it atten- 
tion might be called to the marginal notes of the Chronique 
added by the unidentified eighteenth century hand: Histoire 

23 Marburg, 1879. 24 P. 25. 

25 Ro. vin, p. 369, n. 4. 26 Op. cit., p. 20. 

10 MATZKE [10 

du Chast. de Coucy on the left side of this passage, and 
Romani des amours du chastelain de Coucy. While the 
former is the constant marginal note describing the contents, 
the latter is plainly intended as the title of the romani 
propre. Is the form of this title the invention of the un- 
known annotator, or does it belong to a manuscript or version 
of the story which he knew? If the second of these possi- 
bilities were correct, then we should have here evidence of 
the fact that as late as the eighteenth century there existed 
some version or manuscript with a title differing from those 
known at present. Crapelet's manuscript bears the super- 
scription : Ci commence li Boumans dou chastelain de Couci 
et de ¡a dame du Faiiel; the other available manuscript reads : 
Ch'est li romans du castelain de Couci; a third, cited by Cra- 
pelet, p. xv, from the inventory of the library of Charles V 
made in 1373, cites a poem du chastelain de Coucy, de la 
dame de F ay el, with a later similar record in 1415, but all 
trace of this manuscript has disappeared. 27 However, while 
this marginal note might be evidence of another version, 
there is no way by which the fact could be proved, and it is 
therefore not worth while to dwell on it. Moreover, the 
assumption of a second version of our story is unnecessary, 
and the relation of the roman d'aventure and the Chronique 
finds a satisfactory explanation along another road. Let 
us first compare the two versions and note the differences. 

The Chronique knows nothing of the hero's profession as 
trouvère. Eegnault de Coucy is a moult gentil gallart preux 
chevalier en armes. He joins the crusade of Philippe and 
Richard of his own accord, pour ce quii exercitoit voulentiers 
les armes. The keepsake which the lady of Faiel gives him 
is not a braid of her hair, but ung las de soye moult bel et 
bien fait, et y avoit de ses cheveux ouvrez parmi la soye. In 
the Holy Land the châtelain is spurred on to deeds of valor by 

27 Cf. also Delisle, Recherches sur la librairie de Charles V, Paris, 
1907, Vol. il, p. 186. 


the knowledge of the pleasure that his lady will experience 
when she hears of them. The arrow which wounds him is 
not poisoned, and his death apparently occurs on land, or at 
least no mention is made of any preparations for the home- 
ward journey. Together with his heart, and the las que la 
dame avoit fait de ses cheveulx, he sends to her plusieurs 
anelés et dynamans que le dame lui avoit donnez. The letter 
which accompanies these gifts was written and signed by the 
châtelain himself before his death. The squire meets the 
husband, accompanied by two of his men. When the dreadful 
meal has been eaten, the lady lauds its taste, not of her own 
impulse, as in the roman, but in answer to the question of 
her husband. When she realizes what has happened she does 
not swoon, as in the poem, but she goes to her room, faisant 
moult grant douleur . ... Et en celle doleur .... fina sa 
vie et mourut. And, finally, when the deed becomes known, 
the family of the lady makes war upon the seigneur de F ay el. 
These differences are fundamental and remain unexplained 
on the assumption that the author of the Chronique made a 
careless rendering of the poem. How could he forget that 
the hero was known in Palestine as 

Li chevaliers as grans proueees 
r Qui sus son elme porte treces (Crapelet, 7477) 

that he was sent on the crusade thru a ruse of the husband, 
that he was wounded by a poisoned arrow, and that he died 
on the ship during his return journey? We have definite 
evidence here of the existence of another version of the châte- 
lain de Coucy story, and in addition we may unquestionably 
conclude that it was older than and independent of the 
roman d'aventure, for the literary form of this poem would 
have prevented the fabrication of a new version differing 
from it in important and fundamental details. There is 
further evidence that this older form of the story stood in 
close relation to the Provencal Biography, for there also the 

12 MATZKE [12 

cruel husband is punished by the relatives of his wife. Since 
a closely similar ending is found also in the Indian version 
published by Swynnerton, its reappearance here cannot be 
due to accident. 

The evidence brought forward here necessitates a read- 
justment of all the facts accepted so far with reference to 
the source and composition of the poem of Jakemon Maket. 28 
In the first place, we shall be able to understand better the 
manner in which this legend of the eaten heart became 
associated with the Châtelain de Couci. The roman calls 
him Renault, and Gaston Paris 29 accepted this as the name 
of the trouvère. Believing further that Maket was the first 
to connect the story with the châtelain, he saw the initial 
reason for it in the tone of the Châtelain de Couci's poem 
beginning A vous, amant, plus qu'a nule autre gent, which 
Maket cites. Some years later Fath 30 showed that the name 
of the trouvère was in reality Gui de Couci, and that he 
was unmarried and had died and been buried at sea during 
the fourth crusade, a fact mentioned by Villehardouin, 
§ 124. Maket's identification appeared, therefore, to be a 
mistake, and Fath saw its explanation in the fact that manu- 
scripts containing the châtelaines songs always refer to him 
simply as the Châtelain de Couci. Living in Vermandois 
during the second half of the thirteenth century, our author 
knew at least two châtelains of Couci by the name of Renaut, 
and he might easily have inferred that the trouvère bore the 
same name. 

28 The acrostic in the better of the two known manuscripts reads 
Jakemes Makes, of which Jakemon Maket would be the accusative 
form, and this should be accepted as the author's name; cf. also 
Langlois, op. cit., p. 221. It is interesting in this connection to point 
out a threefold mention of a person or persons of this name, of 
course not our author, in Tournai toward the end of the thirteenth 
century: cf. Zwei altfranz. Friedensregister der Stadt Tournai, 
published by Benary, RF. xxv, p. 156. 

29 Ro. vin, p. 353 ss. 

30 Die Lieder des Castellans von Coucy, Heidelberg, 1883. 


The evidence before us, however, points in a different 
direction. The Chronique also calls the hero Renaut, and 
this fact makes it extremely likely that this name existed 
already in the earlier and simpler version from which the 
Chronique derives. To be sure this text is late and the 
great popularity of MaketYpoem might have influenced its 
author, just as it caused this same name to be introduced 
into at least one of the lyric manuscripts, Brit. Mus. Egerton, 
274. 31 There is, however, no reason to think that this was 
the case here, for the whole story in the Chronique is told 
in a straightforward manner without any evidence of addi- 
tions or changes, and the hero is described as ' ung aulire 32 
moult gentil gallart preux chevalier en armes qui s'apeloit 
Regnault de Coucy, et estoit chastelain de Coucy.' This 
detail in the short account must have identical value with 
the other characteristic traits emphasized above. If the 
author had intended to describe his hero in the light of 
Maket's poem, he would have called Renaut a trouvère. The 
omission of this detail is reasonable before, but not after, the 
composition of the roman d'aventure. It follows, then, that 
the confusion of names is not due to Maket, and that the 
earlier version also called the hero Renaut, châtelain de Couci, 
but it woul4 be wrong to infer further that the hero was some 
other châtelain de Couci and not the famous trouvère. When 
the name of a poet had once been introduced into the story 
in Provence, it was natural that in a different region another 
poet should be similarly treated. 

The reasons why Guillem de Cabestaing was singled out 
in the first place are beyond our reach. Perhaps the name 
of the hero in the lost Provençal version, from which the 
Biography derives and of which we have an imperfect echo 
in the Guardastagno of Boccaccio, gave the impetus. Carried 

31 See Fath, op. cit., p. 10. 

32 Evidently other knights had been spoken of in previous sections 
of the Chronique. 

14 MATZKE [14 

to the north of France, the story became attached to the figure 
of the Châtelain de Couci, whom tradition wrongly called 
Kenaut. Why he should have been selected remains equally 
obscure. His songs are in many respects not very different 
from hundreds of other lyrics of the period. Yet there is 
in several of them a note of reality, a certain definiteness of 
situation, which create the impression that they are based 
on more than mere commonplaces of lyric composition. At 
any rate the Châtelain de Couci was looked upon as one of 
the serious lovers of his profession. He had been a member 
of the fourth crusade, had made the pain of parting from his 
lady the subject of his song, had celebrated the fact that 
his heart was left behind with his love, had died during the 
journey, and had been buried at sea. We may also imagine 
that, in accord with a frequent custom of the period, his 
heart had been cut from his body by his attendants and 
brought back to his native land for burial. All these facts 
must have been active in attracting the story to him. His 
name was in reality Gui, but he was commonly known rather 
by the office which he held, an office hereditary in his family. 
Thus the Châtelain de Couci became the hero of a new form 
of our story, and a name which was probably frequent in 
this well-known family was attributed to him. 

In this effort to trace the road over which the tradition 
traveled before it found a literary form in the poem of Jake- 
mon Maket, we must not be misled by the story as this author 
tells it. He made numerous additions to the plot, added 
the lyrics, following the fashion set by the author of Guillaume 
de Dole, and in a general way elaborated the trouvère side 
of his hero, but his source as such was probably closely similar 
to the form of the story preserved for us in the Chronique. 
What the nature of this source was must remain a mere 
matter of surmise. It may be that it had already been 
utilized for some earlier roman d'aventure, of which the 
much discussed lay of Guirun might be an evidence. It may 
also have been a simple story modeled upon the Provençal 


biography, with which the Chronique shows some striking 
similarity. The whole new setting of the story is due to 
the change of hero, who, tho a poet, joins the crusade in 
his capacity as knight and dies duriug his absence from home. 

This point of view allows us to estimate more accurately 
than has been possible heretofore the methods followed by 
Jakemon Maket in the composition of his poem. It explains 
in the first place why the character of the hero as a knight 
appears so prominently in the poem. The poet attracted the 
story, but this side of him remained undeveloped in the earlier 
version. Maket decided to give it prominence, but he failed 
to work his additions into an integral part of the whole 
picture. His hero wins the love of his lady thru his prowess 
in tournaments and jousts, in fact he frequents these gather- 
ings so that the report of his valor may come to the ears 
of the lady of Faiel, just as in the Chronique the châtelain 
hopes that she may hear of his deeds during the crusade. 

In the next place he weaves into his plot certain charac- 
teristic themes from the Tristan legend. Yzabel plays the 
role of Brangien, the husband watches an interview of the 
châtelain and his wife and is deceived as to the real relation 
between the two, just as Mark is constantly misled concerning 
the love of Tristan and Isolt. He introduces a series of 
stealthy interviews in which the châtelain meets the lady in 
disguise, as Tristan meets Isolt, and for one of these scenes 
he utilizes a theme which he probably knew from the Eracle 
of Gautier d'Arras. Finally, he draws on the Tristan legend 
for the ruse which the husband employs to induce the châte- 
lain to take the cross. The Chronique states that the hero 
joined the crusade because of his love of warfare. He intro- 
duced the lyrics as already indicated, and developed to the 
full the poetic significance of the lyric commonplace of the 
lover's heart, which Chrestien had combatted in his digest 
The jealous lady, who betrays his secret, belongs probably to 

33 Cf. Von Hamel, Ro. xxxm, p. 470. 

16 MATZKE [16 

the Chatelaine de Tergi. Certain other borrowings have been 
indicated by Grober. 34 

This conception of the origin of Jakemon Maket's fine 
composition I believe is essentially correct. As far as I can 
see, it is in entire harmony with the history of the legend 
as a whole. But space forbids me to go into the subject here 
more at length. A full treatment of the whole question must 
be deferred for another occasion.* 

The facts brought forward here do not clear up entirely the 
relation of Konrad von Wiirzburg's poem and the Exemplum to 
our poem. The German poem relates the following story. 

Das Eerze. A knight and a lady love each other, but they can 
not meet as they wish because the lady is jealously guarded by 
her husband, especially when he begins to suspect her passion. To 
win her back and to make the two lovers forget each other, he 
decides to take her with him on a journey to the Holy Land. 
When the knight hears of this plan he decides at once to follow 
them; and the lady is much pleased with this decision. She even 
advises him to begin this journey at once, so that the husband, 
when he hears of it, may lose his suspicion and leave her at home. 
The knight agrees to her wish, accepts a ring from her as a keep- 
sake, and parts from her with a heavy heart and sad forebodings. 

He goes across the sea and lives there, lonesome and shunning 
all amusements, in the hope of seeing his lady again. In the end 
his grief grows so strong that he feels his death approaching. He 
commands his squire to cut his heart from his body after his death, 
to place it in a golden box together with the ring of his lady, and 
to carry it to her. Then he dies and the squire executes his com- 

When he comes near the lady's castle, he meets the husband, 
out with his falcons. The husband recognizes the squire, at once 

34 Grundriss, II. Band, I. Abtlg., p. 772. 

* The study printed above had been completed and sent in to the 
editors of this volume before Professor Matzke's death. A portion 
of the larger study to which he referred {supra, p. 2) was found 
among his papers, and has been published in MLN. xxvi, pp. 1-8, 
with the exception of the treatment of the German versions, which 
has been appended to the present article. 

F. M. W. 


suspects a message, and seeing the golden box attached to the squire's 
belt asks him about its contents. The squire tries to avoid giving an 
answer, the knight then forces him to give it up, and, when he has 
seen the objects it contains, at once guesses their destination. He 
sends the squire on his way with threats, returns home, gives the 
heart to the cook and orders him to prepare it for the table. Then 
he sits down to eat with his wife, and offers her the dish which 
he says was prepared only for her. She eats it, not suspecting its 
nature, and, thinking that she has never eaten finer food, asks 
what its nature is. The husband shows her the ring, and tells 
her what she has eaten and how he has gained possession of the 
heart. The lady falls into a swoon, exclaiming that after such 
a delicious dish God forbid that she should take any food. And 
thereupon her grief becomes so violent that she clasps her hands 
in despair and her heart bursts. 

It is evident that this poem cannot derive from the poem of 
Jakemon Maket. The reasons which militate against this belief 
are clearly stated by Gaston Paris. 35 Comparison with the Chroni- 
que also shows fundamental differences, so that the version given 
the story by Konrad von Würzburg would seem to have no direct 
relation to either of the other two. On the other hand, the general 
framework of the German poem is closely similar to that of the 
two French versions. The journey to the Holy Land, the lover's 
death in that part of the world, the function of the squire in the 
story, and the method by which the husband obtains possession of 
the heart, all these are elements which are not likely to have 
been added to the story at different times, independently of each 
other. The German poem must be related to the French version. 

But the evidence at hand is not sufficient to allow us to solve 
the problem. Certainly no conclusions should be drawn from an 
argument ex silentio. Konrad von Würzburg may not have known 
that Renaut, Châtelain de Couci, was a trouvère, if that name stood 
in his source, for this fact is not stated in the Chronique. He may 
have misunderstood the references to the crusades, or they may not 
have interested him, and he may have preferred to treat this portion 
of his source in his own way. 

We are thus forced to look upon the German poem as an inde- 
pendent offspring of the source of Jakemon Maket and the Chronique, 
where the transmission has become altered, either because inter- 
vening links are lost or because the German author treated his 
material freely. 

The fourth member in this group is an exemplum cited in a 

85 Ro. vin, p. 366. 




collection of sermons often printed in the fifteenth century under 
the title of Sermones parati. Gaston Paris 36 believed that it is 
based upon the lost source of Konrad von Wiirzburg. For the sake 
of completeness we print the short text anew. Comparison with our 
abstract of the German poem will make it clear that it is closely- 
related to it, and, considering its date, we are inclined to look upon 
it as a derivative of this poem rather than its source. 

Quidam miles turpiter adamavit uxorem alterius militis. Con- 
tigit autem ipsum mare transiré; cumque ibi infirmaretur et morti 
appropinquaret, ita fatuus erat et ita excecatus amore mulieris 
quod nee communicare nee confiteri voluit. Precepit autem servo 
suo ut eo mortuo cor suum amice sue in pixide portaret; quod cum 
fecisset et reversus vellet intrare castrum illius domine, occurrit ei 
vir ejus et quesivit ab eo quid de transmarinis partibus portaret; et 
cum nihil responderet coegit eum ut diceret; et accipiens cor istud 
conditura in pixide (et) bene coctum dedit uxori sue ut comederet. 
Cumque comedisset quesivit de domina dicens: Dilexisti etiam ilium 
militem qui mare transivit. Et illa rubedine perfusa loqui non aude- 
bat. Et dixit miles: Sciatis, domina, quod cor dilecti vestri vobis de 
transmarinis partibus missum comedistis. Et illa respondit: Et 
certe ego post ilium cibum nunquam alium cibum comedam. Et 
interfecit seipsam. Ecce quomodo luxuria istos duos fatuos fecit 
et excecavit. 

The relation established so far is the following: 


Provençal (lost) 


Biog. 2 


Biog. 1 

I I . Í 

Chat, de Chronique Konrad 

Couci von Wiirzburg 


36 L. c, p. 367, note 2. 


William A. Nitze 

Crestien de Troyes and Wolfram von Eschenbach agree, as 
compared with the other grail romances, in describing more 
or less precisely the external setting in which the ceremony 
of the grail takes place. More than any of their contempo- 
raries (1180 to 1205), they give to it a local habitation and 
a name, the remoteness and unfamiliarity of which must 
have excited the wonder, and stimulated the imagination, of 
those who came after them. Thus in the Titurel of Albrecht 
von Scharfenberg, composed during the latter part of the 
thirteenth century, the temple of the grail is a church of 
matchless splendor, the architectural ideal of a mystical 
Christian brotherhood. 1 But of the simpler, more charac- 
teristic description of Crestien and Wolfram only indistinct 
traces survive in later works, such as the Prose Perceval, 2 the 
Perlesvaus 8 (Gawain's visit) and the Peredur. 4 Here the 
location of the castle is still beyond a river (lake) and behind 
a mountain, as the Fisher King had said, but the hall (sale) 
in which the holy vessel appears does not differ formally from 
any typical baronial hall of the twelfth or thirteenth centu- 
ries. And in the Peredur alone do we still find mention of 
the fire in front of which the host and his visitors are seated, 

x Cf. F. Zarncke, Ber Graltempel, Sachs. Akad. vu, 1876. 

2 Jessie L. Weston, Sir Perceval, il, pp. 57 ff. 

3 Potvin i, 86, 128 ff. But it is Lancelot not Gawain, who meets 
the fishermen. 

4 Loth, Les Mabinogion, n, 45 ff., 56. 

1] 19 

20 NITZE [2 

though beyond the bare statement of this fact nothing is 
said of the castle and its equipment. The Crône, replete as 
it is otherwise with valuable information especially on the 
grail, contains no evidence of importance 5 on our subject. 

Thus the grail castle descriptions of Crestien and Wolfram 
are distinct in character, and have a marked resemblance to 
each other. It would be folly to attempt to decide a priori 
their immediate relationship. So much only is certain that 
here Wolfram is either following the French poet with some 
elaboration, or else he is using a source close to Crestien's. 
For the moment it matters little which view we prefer since 
the ultimate origin of both accounts must be the same. But 
from what we now know of Crestien's methods in other 
cases; that is, his characteristic habit of retaining in his 
story marked details of his original, regardless often of their 
relevancy to the feudal conditions he describes, we may as- 
sume that here, too, he drew on a definite source. It is more 
than probable that the latter was identical with the livre given 
him by Philip of Flanders: 

5 The following citations show that Heinrich's conception of the 
«astle was that of Crestien, though no fireplace is mentioned. 

Dirre wîte und lange sal 
Wart vol von in uberai 
Und die tische bevangen. 

w. 29271 ff. 

Die kerzen und kerzstal 
Truogen vil âne zal 
Daz mach te den sal also lieht, 
Daz man mochte vervâhen nieht, 
Ob ez tac oder naht waere. 

Der wirth saz under den drin 

Den sal umbe und umbe umb in 

Die andern besâzen; 

Mit einander dâ âzen 

Ein ritter und eine vrouwe ie. 

29282 ff. 

29298 ff. 


Ce est li contes del graal 
Don li cuens li bailla le livre. 6 

But, however that may be, the source 7 already contained 
Celtic material, for Crestien's scenario, the Grail Palace, 
practically reproduces the Banqueting or Mead House of the 
Irish heroic saga. I propose to discuss in the following 
pages the bearing of this analogue on the origin of the grail 
question. Before doing so, it will be necessary to outline in 
detail Crestien's and Wolfram's respective descriptions of the 
grail castle. 

In the Perceval, 8 after the hero has mounted the hill (puy) 
to which the fisherman had directed him, seeing nothing but 

6 MS. printed by Baist (see below, note 8), w. 66-67. 

7 1 assume, of course, that the central event of the romance was 
found in Philip's book, and that it had to do with the grail cere- 
mony. Baist is inclined to think (see Parzival u. der Gral, Frei- 
burg, 1909, p. 19) that in the source the counsels (Weisheitslehren) 
were more closely bound up with the action than in Crestien. This 
seems to me possible, if it can be shown, as I believe it can, 
that the grail ceremony is an " initiation." At the same time, 
Crestien, as we see from his other works, was essentially a scho- 
lastic in training and temperament. This fact in itself would 
explain the emphasis he places on questions of conduct, see my 
Fountain Defended, in Mod. Phil, vu, 146. In vv. 4608 ff. Crestien 
likens the theme to a quest of Fortune ( cf. Perlesvaus, Pot. I, 24 ff . ) , 
and a frequent citation of proverbs is characteristic of his works. 
His relationship to the mediaeval learning should be investigated. 
Further, compare the instructions given by Gornemanz, w. 1610 ff. 
with the Ordene de Chevalerie, printed by Méon, Fab. I, 59 ff. 

8 1 quote from Baist's text, privately printed, Freiburg, 1910. Of 
the value of this version Baist says : " Eine genaue Wiedergabe der 
Hs. 794 ist der Abdruck erst von v. 6175 an, bis dahin Auszug einer 
Collation, welche die Eigenart des champagnischen Schreibers wohl 
im Grossen u. Ganzen, aber doch nicht mit der wünschenswerten 
absoluten Genauigkeit wiedergiebt." 

22 NITZE [4 

sky and land, he accuses his guide of deception. Presently, 
however, he perceives nearby 

(a) an un val 

Le chief d'une tor qui parut; 
L'an ne trovast jusqu' a Barut 
Si bêle ne si bien asise. 
Quarree fu de pierre bise, 
Si auoit [deus] tórneles antor, 
La sale fu devant la tor 
E les loges devant la sale. 

[vv. 3012 ff., Baist]. 

When he has ridden thither, dismounted, and put on a 
" mantel d'escarlate," the host despatches two squires to greet 
him in the loges. 

E cil avoec ax s'an ala 
(5) An la sale qui fu quarree 

E autant longue come lee; 

Enrni la sale sor un lit 

Un bel prodome seoir vit 

Que estoit de chenez meslez 

E ses chies fu anchapelez 

D'un sebelin noir come more; 

A une porpre vox desore 

E d'itel fu sa robe tote, 

Apoiez fu desor son cote. 9 
(e) Si ot devant lui un feu grant 

De sesche busche bien ardant, 
(d) E fu antre quatre colomes. 

9 Cf. a similar description in the Perlesvaus, Potvin i, 86 ff: Et li 
rois Peschières gisoit an un lit cordëiz dont li quepou estoient 
d'ivoire, et avoit une coûte de paille sor quoi il gisoit et par desus 
I couvertoir de sable, dont li dras estoit moût riches. Et avoit un 
chapel de sebelin an son chief, couvert d'un vermeil samiz de soie, 
et une croiz d'or; et avoit desouz son chief i oreiller qui touz estoit 
anbaumez, et avoit an un cornez de l'orillier mi pierres qui ran- 
doient moût grant clarté; et avoit I piler de coivre sor quoi I aigle 
seoit qui tenoit une croiz d'or. 


Bien poïst an quatre cent homes 
Asseoir anviron le feu, 
S'aüst chascuns aeisié leu. 
Les colomes forz i estaient, 
Qui le cheminai sostenoient, 
D'arain espes e haut e lé. 

The host invites Perceval to sit beside him: 

Li vaslez est lez lui asis. 

Then the sword is presented ; 

la sore pucele 
Vostre niece qui tant est bele 
Vos anvoie ci cest present. 

Perceval finally hands it to 

un bacheler 
Antor le feu qui cler ardoit. 

The light there is 

Si grant com l'an le porroit faire 
De chandoiles an un ostel. 

Then the lance and the grail are brought forth. From the 
latter there streams so great a brilliancy 

(e) [Qu'] ausi perdirent les chandoiles 
Lor clarté come les estoiles 
Quant li solauz lieve e la lune. 

De fin or esmeré estoit; 

Pierres précieuses auoit 

El graal de maintes menieres, 

Des plus riches e des plus chieres 

Qui an mer ne an terre soient. 

The grail-bearers pass before Perceval, 

E d'un chanbre an autre alerent. 

24 NiTZE '.!/; [6 

(/) Then two squires bring 

Une lee table d'ivoire 
Ensi con reconte l'estoire 
Ele estoit tote d'une piece. 

This is placed on 

deus eschaces, 
Don li fuz a deus bones graces 
Don les eschaces fetes furent, 
Que les pieces toz jorz andurent, 
Don furent eles d'ebenus. 
De celui fust ne dot ja nus 
Que il porrisse ne qu'il arde; 
De ces deus choses n'a il garde. 

As each dish is served the grail passes 

Par devant lui tot descovert. 
Li mangiers fu e biax e buens; 
De tei mangier que rois e cuens 
E empereres doie avoir 
Fu li prodom serviz le soir, 
E li vaslez ansanble lui. 

(g) When it is time to retire the host bids Perceval, who 
has been marvelling much, good-night, and is carried into 
his own room: 

" Je n'ai nul pooir de mon cors 
Si covandra que l'an m'an port." 

But Perceval goes to bed in the hall where they have been 
sitting, and in the morning when he awakes he finds it de- 
serted and all the doors to the adjoining rooms bolted. The 
entrance (Vuis) to the hall, however, is open; and passing 
out, he discovers at the foot of the steps his horse saddled 
and his lance and shield in readiness for him. 

According to the Parzival 10 (v), P. had come by a long 
10 Ed. Martin, Halle, 1900-1903. 


journey, " über roñen und durchez mos " to a lake. 11 Here 
he meets fishermen, one of whom wears a hat with peacock 
feathers. 12 The latter sends P. to his house to the right of 
a rock. This P. finds at once. 

(a) It is a castle (bure), the drawbridge of which is up. 
Unless the enemy came flying or were blown in by the wind, 
it could not be stormed — so round and smooth the castle was 
built. 13 A squire lowers the bridge ; 14 and P. rides into the 
yard, where " ritter jung und alt " welcome him. 

11 In Chrestien it is a " riviere A l'avalée d'une angarde." 

12 On peacock feathers as used by the Irish, see Sullivan's intro- 
duction, p. cccclxxxi to O'Curry, Manners and Customs of the 
Ancient Irish. 

13 See Martin, n, 210, for the translation I give. This feature of 
the castle suggests Chaucer's Hous of Fame, w. 2002-2006 (the 
House of Tidings) : 

" But certein, oon thing I thee telle, 
That, but I bringe thee ther-inne, 
Ne shalt thou never cunne ginne 
To come in-to hit, out of doute, 
So faste hit whirleth, lo, aboute." 

Chaucer describes a typical otherworld abode, similar in several 
characteristics to Wolfram's castle, the castle in Syr Gawayne and 
the Green Knight, etc. For the latest and fullest treatment, see 
W. O. Sypherd, Studies in Chaucer's Hous of Fame, 1907 (Chaucer 
Soc), pp. 138 ff. The following features are of interest here: an 
eagle, i. e., a helpful animal ( see Sypherd, pp. 95 ff . ) , bears him 
thither. The Hous of Fame, v. 1116 ff.: 

stood upon so high a roche, 
Hyer s tant ther noon in Spaine. 

The Hous, w. 1184-1185: 

Al was of stone of beryle, 
Bothe castel and the tour; 

and within the hall, 1360-1367: 

But al on hye, above a dees, 

14 See Syr Gawayne and the Green Knight, ed. Morris, w. 764 ff ., 
where Gawain has the same experience. 

26 NITZE [8 

He is then led into a chamber, where he doffs his armor 
and puts on a "mantel, mit pfelle von Arabi/' the property 

Sitte in a see imperial, 

That maad was of a rubee al, 

Which that a carbuncle is y-called, 

I saugh, perpetually y-stalled, 

A feminynye creature; 

That never formed by nature 

Nas swich another thing y-seye. 

Not far away, in a valley, is the House of Tidings (there are often 
two castles in otherworld adventures, a typical example is the 
Bel Inconnu, ed. Hippeau, vv. 2471-2829) : 

An hous, that Domus Dedali, 
That Laborintus cleped is, 
Nas maad so wonderliche, y-wis, 
Ne half so queynteliche y-wrought. 
And ever-mo, so swift as thought, 
This quentye hous aboute wente, 
That never-mo hit stille stente. 

vv. 1920-1926. 

A " turning " castle is frequent in the romances, see Perlesvaus, 
Pot. i, 195 (Sypherd also mentions, p. 149, the castle in the Welsh 
Seint Graal, which is, however, only a Welsh redaction of the 
French work) ; Crône, vv. 12945-12966 (Reht ais ein mill, diu da 
malt ; Diu mûre was als ein glas Berhtel, hôch unde glat) ; Mule 
sans Frein, ed. Méon, i, vv. 440-443; Wigalois, ed. Pfeiffer, vv. 6714- 
7053; Karlsreise, vv. 369 ff. (see K. G. T. Webster, Eng. Studien, 
xxxvi, 337 ff., for the Celtic character of this part of the Karlsreise ; 
in Peredur, Loth II, 92, the otherworld mistress is empress of Con- 
stantinople, and in many later Celtic tales the otherworld is Greece). 
The chief Irish parallels are: the fort of Curoi in the Fled Bricrend, 
ed. Henderson, § 81, which "revolved as swiftly as a mill-stone"; 
and the island of the revolving " fiery rampart " in the Voyage of 
Maelduin, Stokes, Revue Celtique x, 81. Ehys also claims the same 
trait for the Welsh Caer Sidi (see Skene, Four Ancient Books, I, 
264-266, 276). For other analogues in folklore and story, see Sy- 
pherd, pp. 166 ff., 173 ff. 

On Lajamon's reference, w. 22736 ff., to Arthur's feast at Yuletide 
and to the seating of the knights: al turne abute, that nan ne beon 
wiftute, see the suggestion of Miss Weston (Mélanges Wilmotte, 


of Eepanse de Schoye, sister of the Fisher King. Thereupon 
he is invited into the presence of the host. 

(6) Si giengen ûf ein palas. 

hundert krone da gehangen was, 

vil kerzen drûf gestôzen, 

ob den hûsgenôzen, 

kleine kerzen umbe an der want. 

hundert pette er ligen vant 

(daz schuofen dies dâ pflâgen) : 

hundert kulter drûffe lâgen, 

le vier gesellen sundersiz: 

da enzwischen was ein underviz, 

derfiir ein teppich sinewel. 

fil lu roy Frimutel 

mohte wol geleisten daz. [Martin, § 229, 23 ff.] 

One thing is of great importance: 

(c) mit marmel was gemûret 
drî vierekke fiwerrame: 
dar ûffe was des fiwers name, 
holz hiez lign aloe. 

So great a fire was never seen at Wildenberc (see Martin n, 
213). The host has himself placed 

gein der mitteln fiwerstat 
ûf ein spanbette. 
ez was worden wette 
zwischen im und der vroude. 

P. sits beside him. The fire had been made because of the 
host's illness; to keep warm he also wore a sable fur, with a 
mantle over it; of sable too was his cap upon which shone 

ein durchliuhtic rûbin. 15 

Amid lamentations the lance is then carried by. 

deprint, 1910, p. 7). But Lajamon's point is that the circular seat- 
ing places the knights on a plane of equality; cf. A. C. L. Brown, 
Harvard Studies and Notes, vu, 186. 

15 Cf. above, Bous of Fame, w. 1360-1367; and Zarncke, Der 

28 NITZE [10 

(/) Thereupon two maidens in red follow with candle- 
sticks and a herzogin u. ir gespil bring two stands of ivory, 
upon which others in green place a slab of hyacinth — granai 
jachant — as a table-top. Upon this [cf. Martin, 11, 218] 
Repanse de Schoye places the grail. Tables are set before 
the knights in the hall: 

fur werder ríter viere. 

[Martin, I. c, estimates that 1200 persons were present]. 
The grail provides whatever food is desired: 

swâ nâch jener bôt die hant; 
daz er al bereite vant 
spîse warm, spîse kalt, 
spîse niwe unt dar zuo alt, 
daz zam unt daz wilde. 

swâ nâch den napf ieslîcher bôt, 

Graltempel in Sachs. Gesell. d. Wissensch. vu (1876), p. 484: 
" Rubin, eine Abart des Karfunkel, vgl. Alb. Magn. in Mus. 2, 
62 fg. : Carbunculus, qui Grœcœ ántrax et a nonnullis rubinus voca- 
tur." On the carbuncle, see ibid., p. 485; it is thus described in 
the Palace of Préster John: una quaeque columpna in suo cacumine 
habet unum carbunculum adeo magnum, ut est magna amphora, 
quibus illuminatur palatium, ut mundus illuminatur a sole. Tanta 
est namque claritas, ut nichil tarn exiguum tarn subtile possit 
excogitari, si in pavimento esset, quin posset intueri. Also, Roman 
de Thèbes, ed. Constans, v. 634 ; P. Meyer, Girart de Roussillon, Paris, 
1884, p. 25, note; Hertz, Parzival, 2 526; Bel Inconnu, ed. Hippeau, 
v. 1879; the lit merveilleux in the Perceval, w. 7666 if. 

A chascun des quepouz del lit 
Ot un escharbocle fermé, 
Qui gitoient molt grant clarté, 
Molt plus que quatre cierge espris; 

and Pannier, Les lapidaires français, Paris, 1882, p. 52. Finally, 
below, p. 16, the carbuncles at Tara. Crestien says of Fenice's 
beauty in Cliges, w. 2749 ff. 

Et la luors de sa biauté 
Rant el palés plus grant clarté 
Ne feïssent quatre escharboucle. 


swaz er trinkens kunde nennen, 
daz mohte er driime erkennen 
allez von des grales kraft. 

The sword presentation then follows: 
sîn gehilze was ein rubín. 16 

Parzival retires, accompanied, 17 to a room, which in the 
morning he finds deserted. He calls but receives no answer; 
at the steps his horse awaits him. As he rides forth the 
drawbridge is raised by an unseen hand and a squire shouts 
a reproach after him. 

Further on, § 469, Wolfram describes the grail in detail : 

Si lebent von einem steine: 
des geslahte ist vil reine. 

er heizet lapsit exillîs. 

16 On the rubín see note, above p. 9. In Perlesvaus, Pot. I, 75, 
the sword is as clere comme une esmeraude et autresint vert, cf. 
Crestien's Yvain, vv. 424 ff., and my note in Modern Philology, vu 
(1909), p. 149; in the hilt of the sword there is a seintime pierre, 
set by Enax, emperor of Rome. 

"Parzival, § 243, 21: 

dar nâch giene do zer tur dar în 
vier clare juncf rouwen ; 
§ 244, 5: 

daz begunde ir ougen süezen, 
ê si enpfiengen sîn grüezen. 
ouch fuogten in gedanke not, 
dâz im sîn munt was sô rôt, etc. 

Perhaps Wolfram has in mind a frequent otherworld trait; cf. 
the Mabinogi Pwyll, Loth I, 33, where the same restraint is shown: 
"Lorsque le moment du sommeil fut arrivé, la reine et lui allèrent 
se coucher. Aussitôt qu' ils furent au lit, il lui tourna le dos et 
resta le visage fixé vers le bords du lit, sans lui dire un seul mot 
jusqu' au matin." The same theme occurs in Sir Gawayne and the 
Green Knight, w. 1228 ff. 

18 A summary of the explanations offered for these words is given 

30 NITZE [12 

Such strength does it give man 

daz im fleisch unde bein 
jugent enpfacht al sunder twâl. 

Architecturally the most striking feature in the above de- 
scriptions is the fireplace 19 or fireplaces (c), for in Wolfram 

by Martin 11, 359-360. Variants of lapsit are lapis and iaspis; 
on the latter see also the Younger Titurel, str. 6172, and Pannier, 
Lapidaires français, Paris, 1882, pp. 39 ff. 

Orne maintient bien e conforte; 
E ki la garde chastement 
Mult li fist grant seürement. 

Also J. L. Weston, Legend of Sir Perceval, n, 313 ff. 

19 The passage describing the fireplace (not its location) is not 
entirely clear. Crestien, v. 3055, says the fire was between four 
columns (but perhaps the real subject is busche; then, however, 
qui and not e would be expected). In v. 3061 he continues: 

Les colomes forz i estoient 
Qui le cheminai sostenoient 
D' arain espes e haut e lé. 

The last line I take to refer to colonies. 

The word cheminai is not given in Baist's glossary; but Godefroy 
gives chenet as its meaning. Are we then to suppose that it was 
a kind of landier, of the primitive type mentioned by R. Meringer, 
ZRP. xxx (1906), pp. 414 ff? He says: " Er (der Feuerbock) ist 

ein Gérât des alten off enen Herdes und hat dort v i e r Beine 

Er erscheint ausserhalb Italiens bei Romanen, Kelten und Ger- 
manen. ... In England ist er, wie in alien Kaminlandern meist 
dreibeinig. Er kommt aber auch vierbeinig vor, wie z. B. das riesige 
Exemplar in der Great Hall zu Penhurst (Kent), das Wright, A 
history of English culture S. 450 Fig. 290 zeigt. Dieser Feuerbock 
steht auch keineswegs in einem Kamine, sondern auf den Fliesen, 
auf einem mit Steinen umstellten Platze, in der Mitte der Halle. 
Nach seiner Grosse zu urteilen, konnte man auf ihm ein morderisches 
Feuer entbrennen." 

If now we turn to Wolfram we find that he says § 230, 8 ff . : 

mit marmel was gemûret 
drî vierreke fiwerrame. 


there are three, in the center of the hall. The text-commen- 
tators in general have passed over the matter without remark. 
Schultz 20 and Heyne, 21 however, were both struck with the 
incongruity of this feature in a feudal castle of Crestien's or 
Wolfram's time. Says Schultz : " Vielleicht handelte es sich 
[in Wolfram] um freistehende Ramine, deren Eauchmantel 
von vier durch Bogen verbundene Sàulchen getragen wurde. 
Es ist mir zwar kein derartiges Monument bekannt, aber die 
Beschreibung welche Chrestien de Trois von solchen Kamin 
entwirft, scheint unzweifelhaft in der von mir versuchten 
Weise zu ergánzen zu sein." Heyne, more sceptical, admits 

Martin n, 213 remarks: " st. f. ' Feuerbehâlter ' nur hier belegt; 
nhd. bei Môser = Rauchfang DWb 8, 66. rame st. f . der holzerne 
Rahmen zum Flechten, Weben und Sticken; iiberhaupt Gestell zum 

Ducange, s. v. camínale gives chenet; cf. Godefroy. 

As for Meringer's reference to "Wright, A history of English culture 
S. 450 Fig. 290 " (London, 1874), I have not been able to find a copy 
of this work. There is, however, an earlier edition (1871) of the same, 
entitled Homes of Other Days, where the fireplace at Penshurst is 
described (p. 450) with an accompanying cut of the firedog (fig. 
290 ) . A glance at this cut will convince anyone that Crestien 
could not have had a similarly constructed firedog in mind in 
describing his cheminai supported by 4 columns, d' arain espes 
e haut e lé. The exact form (and perhaps the meaning) of chemi- 
nai in this passage I therefore leave to others to explain. 

In the meantime, we may conclude, I think, that Crestien and 
Wolfram referred respectively to a primitive fireplace or hearth 
(cf. Ward, I. c, for examples) open on four sides, the smoke from 
which passed out of the house by an opening (later called a louvre) 
in the arched roof; granting always the possibility of Schultz's 
suggestion that cheminai in Crestien = cheminée, an interpretatici 
which is, however, not supported by the other Old French examples 
of the word, all of which to be sure are relatively late. Cf. also 
Diez, 5 788; and on landier, see further Viollet-le- Due, Die. du Mob. 
I, 145, 148; Horning, ZRP. xix, 527 ff. On Penshurst, see below, 
note 25. 

20 Das hòfische Leben sur zeit der Minnesinger I, 59. 

21 Das deutsche Wohnungsivesen, Leipzig, 1899, p. 387. 

32 NITZE [14 

frankly : " Ob aber ein dreifacher Kamin von Marmor in 
einem Palas der Wirklichkeit entspricht, wie ihn Wolfram v. 
Eschenbach beschreibt, in welchem Aloeholz brennt und vor 
dessen mittlerer Feuerstall der Wirt selbst auf einem Spann- 
bett Platz nimmt, das muss dahin gestellt bleiben." The 
plan of the monastery of St. Gall preserved in the Vocabu- 
larius 8. Galli of the seventh century 22 is generally cited as 
an example — a late one — of a hall and house constructed 
about a central fireplace. But as St. Gall came from Ireland 
and settled in the place which bears his name in 672, it is 
probable that the plan outlined in the Vocabularius repre- 
sents Irish rather than continental traditions. In any case, 
it is conceded that long before Crestien's time, the fireplace 
in continental stone buildings had been moved to the outer 
wall, where it is regularly found in the feudal castles of the 
twelfth century. 23 Thus Crestien's palace scarcely had a con- 
temporary basis of reality. In Arthurian literature the only 
other clear instance of a fireplace so placed that I have found 
is in the late (fourteenth century) Libeaus Desconnus. 2i 
There the hero discovers in the palace at Sinadoun: 

22 Heyne, op. cit., 119, 387; also R. Henning, Das Deutsche Haus 
in Quellen u. Forsch., xlvii (1882), pp. 142 if. 

23 Cf. Viollet-le-Duc, Dictionnaire d'architecture, in, 195 ff., and 
Heyne, op. cit., 387. 

24 Ed. Kaluza, Alteng. Bibl., v. Libeaus rides right into the palace, 
as Yvain does in Crestien's Yvain, w. 963 ff. (Foerster's elaborate 
note is unnecessary the moment we think of the Irish hall, see 
below). The pillars and the wall are of jasper and fyn cry stall, 
v. 1894; the doors of bras, the windows of glas, and the hall is 
painted with images. 

In Syr Gawayne and the Green Knight, ed. R. Morris, 

J?er fayre fyre vpon net fersly brenned 

v. 832 

in the hall, presumably also in the center. Moreover, the castle 
appears suddenly to Gawain, on Christmas eve, on a mound. Like 
Wolfram's castle the drawbridge is lowered only at his bidding, 
and the " full noble " feast is served on tables set on trestles in 


Amiddle be halle flor.e 

A fere stark und store 

was lijt und brende briit. 

vv. 1867-1869. 

But this example 'is also from an otherworld description in 
Arthurian literature, and interesting as it is as a piece of 
tradition, was hardly taken direct 25 from local conditions. 
Thus we are justified in looking elsewhere for the origin of 
this curious trait. 

Now it is well known that the Irish heroic saga always 
places the fireplace in the center of the hall, which is gener- 
ally rectangular in shape, though the earlier form was 
probably circular. So, Dottin says, 26 " les maisons et les 

front of the chemné, her charcole brenned, v. 875. Beside the host, 
two ladies, the one fair, the other yellow and rough, dwell in the 
castle, which is " huge " in height, with battlements and watch- 
towers. See, also, The Turke and Gowin, ed. Madden, vv. 198-203 : 

Then there stood amongst them all 
a chimney in they Kings hall 
with barres mickle of pride; 
there was laid on in that stond 
coales & wood that cost a pound 
that vpon it did abide. 

25 A possibility exists, however, in the case of the Libeaus Descon- 
nus, which was probably written in Kent, that its author was 
acquainted with Penshurst Place or Manor, now belonging to Lord De 
L'Isle, but once the home of the Sidneys. Penshurst lies in Kent and 
was presumably built about 1341. The hall is known among archi- 
tects by the fact that its center is occupied by the hearth, " over 
which there was at an earlier period an opening in the roof, having a 
small ornamented turret to cover it called a smoke louvre." Cf. 
Elizabeth Balch, Glimpses of Old English Homes, London, 1890, p. 
6; Thomas Wright, 1. c.j Enlart, Histoire de l'Art, il, 344. A similar 
louvre is extant in the well-known Abbott's Kitchen, completed in 
1333-1341, at Glastonbury. But this is offered only as a suggestion. 

Likewise, to infer that Crestien and Wolfram had in mind an 
actual English building (hall) seems to me unreasonable. 

26 Manuel pour servir à l'étude de l'antiquité celtique, Paris, 1906, 
p. 120. 


34 NITZE [16 

palais des Irlandais de l'épopée semblent avoir été circulaires 
comme les rotondes gauloises dont parle Strabon. Le feu 
était au milieu. Il n' y avoit qu' une porte. Les couches 
étaient tout à l'entour de la chambre, d' un côté de la porte 
à l'autre." To be sure, the primitive Germanic house was 
also built about the locus foci. 27 But there is no reason to 
suppose that Crestien had access here to primitive Germanic 
traditions inasmuch as the fireplace constitutes only one of 
many resemblances between the Perceval and the Irish texts. 
In the Fled Bricrend, 28 the main portion of which 29 " was 
current in Erin during the last quarter of the ninth century," 
Briciu's house is as follows : 

" The house was made on this wise : on the plan of Tara's 
Mead-Hall, having nine compartments from fire to wall, each 
fronting thirty feet high, overlaid with gold. In the fore 
part of the palace a royal couch was erected for Conchobar 
high above those of the whole house. It was set with car- 
buncles and other precious stones which shone with a lustre 
of gold and silver, radiant with every hue, making night like 
unto day. Around it were placed the twelve couches of the 
twelve heroes of Ulster." 

The Mead Hall at Tara, to which the above text refers, was 
also known as Long nam Ban, and is said to have held a 
thousand soldiers, " the choice part of the men of Erin." 

27 Cf. Moritz Heyne, Ueber Lage u. Construction der Halle Heerot 
im angelsach. Beowulf sliede, Halle, 1864; G. T. Files, Anglo-Saxon 
House, Leipzig, 1893; Paul's Grundriss, 2 ill, 433, § 18. Brown, 
Harv. Studies and Notes, vu, 197, suggests (rightly, I think) that 
the circular seating arrangement in the Irish house " points back 
to the more primitive round wattle house, being totally unlike the 
Germanic arrangement." See, also, above. 

28 As the most important general reference for the following pages 
I cite Sullivan's Introduction, ccxcvi ff. of O'Curry's Manners and 
Customs of the Ancient Irish, 1873, vol. I. 

29 Fled Bricrend, ed. J. Henderson, Irish Texts Soc. II, 1899, p. 
xliv. Cf. also R. Thurneysen, Sagen aus dem alten Irland, Berlin, 
1901, pp. 26-28. 


Pétrie 30 gives the following description of it : " In the ground- 
plan of Tech Midchuarta the house is shown as divided into 
five divisions, which are again subdivided into several others. 
Each of the two divisions extending along the side walls is 
shown as subdivided into twelve imdas [according to Thur- 
neysen 31 = " Pritsche," i. e., a couch], which here means 
' seats ? ; each of two divisions adjoining them into eight ; and 
the central division is represented as containing three fires 32 
at equal distances, a vat, a chandelier, and an erlarcaich, 
besides two compartments on each side of the door and three 
in the other extremity of the house opposite the door, occu- 
pied by the distributors, cup-bearers, and reachtaires." 33 
The banqueting-house was " an oblong structure, having its 
lower end to the north and higher end to the south, with 
walls to east and west. In these walls, according to the prose 
accounts, 34 there were twelve or fourteen doors, six or seven 

30 On the History and Antiquities of Tara Hill, Trans. Roy. Ir. 
Acad, xviii, 1838, p. 197. 

31 Op. cit., 26. Thurneysen remarks : " In der Mitte des Hauses 
ist die Feuerstelle in einsm freien Raum, der hochstens noch den 
Platz für den Fiirsten umschliesset (so in Alills Palast, Theil II). 
Ringsum laufen die Pritschen, wie ich das irische Wort " imda " 
am richtigsten wiederzugeben glaube, wenn auch bei den hier ge- 
schilderten Prachtexemplaren die der Mitte des Hauses zuge- 
wendeten Seiten nicht aus Holz, sondern aus Bronze bestehen. 
Auf sie werden Decken u. Polster gebreitet, u. darauf setzen sich 
je einer oder mehrere Festteilnehmer. Nachts oder bei Krankheit 
dienen die Pritschen als Betten." 

32 The italics are mine, cf. Wolfram. 

33 A house-steward, according to Sullivan, p. celi. 

3 * Cf . Keating, History of Ireland, 1857, p. 333; in Cormac's time 
Midchuarta " was three hundred feet in length, and thirty cubits 
in height, and, in breadth, it was fifty cubits. In it there was a 
flaming lamp, and it was entered by fourteen doors. It contained 
one hundred and fifty beds, besides Cormac's own. One hundred 
and fifty warriors stood in the king's presence when he sat down to 
the banquet. There were one hundred and fifty cup-bearers in wait- 
ing; and the hall was provided with one hundred and fifty jewelled 
cups of silver and gold. Fifty over one thousand was the number 
of the entire household." Cf. Irish Texts Soc, vin, 305. 

36 NITZE [18 

on each side." Of interest here too is Ailill's palace, of which 
the Fled has the following account. 35 

" Thereupon the Ultonians come into the fort and the 
palace is left to them as recounted, viz., seven " circles ■" 
(Rundgànge waren darin) and seven compartments (Prit- 
schen) from fire to partition (Wand), with bronze f routings 
and carvings of red yew. Three stripes of bronze in the 
arching of the house, which was of oak, with a covering of 
shingles (an der Stirnseite des Hauses drei Bronzesâulen. 
Das Haus selber von Eichenholz, etc.). It had twelve win- 
dows with glass in the openings. The dais of Ailill and of 
Mève in the centre of the house, with silver frontings and 
stripes of bronze round it, with a silver wand by the fronting 
facing Ailill, that would reach the mid " tips " of the house 
(den Querbalken des Hauses) so as to check the inmates 

unceasingly Such was the spaciousness of the house 

that it had room for the hosts of valiant heroes of the whole 
province in the suite of Conchobar." 

Finally, the Royal House at Emain Macha in the Tochuiar 
Emere 3C or Wooing of Emer is similarly arranged. " There 

35 Henderson, p. 69; Thurneysen, p. 43. I give Thurneysen's 
variants in brackets. See also the slightly varying account in Sulli- 
van, p. dcxli, addenda. 

36 From the Irish MS. Lebor na h-Uidre, see Kuno Meyer, Revue 
Celt, xi, 446; Zeit. f. Celt. Philologie, in, 248. I quote from the 
modernized version of Lady Gregory, Cuchulain of Muirthemne, New 
York, 1903, pp. 43 if. On Welsh territory the story of Pwyll (see 
Loth i, 33) preserves essentially the Irish arrangement (as Pro- 
fessor Manly reminds me): "Aussitôt qu' il [Pwyll] entra dans 
la salle, des écuyers et de jeunes valets accoururent pour le désarmer. 
Chacun d' eux le saluait en arrivant. Deux chevaliers vinrent le 
débarrasser de son habit de chasse et le revêtir d' un habit or de 
paile. La salle fut préparée; il vit entrer la famille, la suite, la 
plus belle et la mieux équipée qui se fût jamais vue, et avec eux la 
reine, la plus belle femme du monde, vêtue d' un habit d' or de 
paile lustrée; après s' être lavés, ils se mirent à table: la reine d' un 
côté de Pwyll, le comte, ;i ce qu' il supposait, de l'autre. Ils eurent 


were three times fifty rooms, and the walls were made of red 
yew, witli copper rivets. And Conchubar's own room was 
on the ground, and the walls of it laced with bronze, and 
silver up above, with gold birds on it, and their heads set 
with shining carbuncles; and there were nine partitions from 
the fire to the wall, and thirty feet the height of each parti- 
tion. And there was a silver rod before Conchubar with 
three golden apples on it, and when he shook the rod or 
struck it, all the house would be silent." 37 

Summarizing the various accounts Sullivan 38 brings out 
the following points : 

(1) When the house was oblong, it was divided roughly 
into three parts by two rows of pillars which supported the 

(2) The fire was placed in the central division, which was 
the largest — about two-thirds of its whole length; the can- 
delabrum being placed between the fire and the door, and 
generally toward the middle of the house. One of the essen- 
tial articles of furniture in the house of a Bó Aire 39 (i. e., a 
freeman who possessed cows and other chattels) was " a 
candle upon a candlestick." 40 In round houses the fire was 
near the center. 

à souhait mets, boisson, musique, computation ; c'était bien de toutes 
les cours qu' il avait vues au monde, la mieux pourvue de nourri- 
ture, de boissons, de vaisselle d'or et de bijoux royaux." 

" ,T This is evidently the motif of dumbness. Cf. Nutt, Studies, 
p. 76. In the Mabinogi of Branwen, Loth I, 89, the warriors cast 
into the cauldron of renovation come forth restored except that 
they could not speak. So in the Queste, Williams éd., p. 442, the 
(hail strikes the beholders dumb: "every one looked at each other, 
and there was not one that could say a single word." Later, they 
recover their speech. In Perlesvaus, Pot. I, 87-89, Gawain falls into 
a revery at the appearance of the Grail, in Wauchier and the Crône 
he falls asleep. The music of the Tuatha, as Brown observes, PMLA. 
xxv, 16 note, induced to sleep. 

38 Pp. cccxlvi ff. 3r) Sullivan, p. cccliii. 

40 From the Crith Gablach (law-tract) n, p. 486. 

38 NITZE [20 

(3) The narrow divisions at each side of the central hall 
were occupied by the imdas, which formed recesses between 
the pillars. In the circular houses the imdas went around 
the room from one side of the door to the other. Their 
number seems to have depended upon the rank of the owner 
of the house. 

(4) The seat of the chief of the household was about two- 
thirds of the way from the door — near the hearth. In round 
houses it was apparently behind the fire and fronting the 
door. The queen occupied a place near the king, the cham- 
pion's seat was near him also. 41 

(5) The imdas, used both as couches and beds, were pro- 
vided with feather beds and with pillows stuffed with feathers. 

( 6 ) There were also benches of a lower order : these were 
doubtless occupied by the lower officers of the household. 
According to the plans of Tara, two rows of seats occupied 
the sides of the central passage in which the candelabrum, 
fire and ale vat were placed. One of these, thinks Sullivan, 42 
corresponded " to a lower range of benches, on the level of 
the fire, upon which sat the Cerds or goldsmiths, the black- 
smith, shield-maker, and other artificers of the king." 

(7) There seems to have been but one door-way; at least 
in some of the large banqueting halls, as well as in many, 
if not all the round houses. In the famous Brug of Da 
Derga 43 there were seven doorways but only one door, which 
was put in the doorway at the side from which the wind blew. 

In general, then, the Irish texts agree among themselves 
and with Crestien and Wolfram in describing a hall of large 
dimensions, usually rectangular, in which a great number 
of warriors could be seated (Crestien and Wolfram both say 

41 In the Welsh Laws of Bowel the Good, ed. Wade-Evans, 1909, 
p. 148, it is said that the seat of the edling in the hall is opposite 
to the king about the fire with him (a reference I owe to Professor 
A. C. L. Brown). The chair in Caer Sidi (Skene, I, 276) will have 
three utterances, around the fire, sung before it. 

42 P. cccli. 43 Cf. below, p. [28, note. 


four hundred) , in such a way that the king's place was in 
the centre on the main daïs 44 (imda or M.H.G. pette) in 
front of the fire/ 5 while the rest of the company sat round 
about. The arrangement is essentially that described by 
Posidonius, 46 who states with reference to Celtic feasts : " they 
[the Celts] sit in a circle and the bravest sits in the middle 
like the leader of a chorus ; because he is superior to the rest 
either in his military skill, or in birth, or in riches; and the 
man who gives the entertainment sits next to him, and then 
on each side the rest of the guests, according as each is 
eminent or distinguished for anything." 47 In addition, 
several details in Crestien and Wolfram are found in the Irish 
descriptions — such as the fact that the columns of Crestien's 
cheminai are of airain espes a haut e lé; that in Wolfram's 
palace as at Tara there are three fires (c) and a numerous 
company of attendants, cupbearers and the like (/) ; that the 
display of riches surpasses anything known to man (e) ; that 
the grail like the carbuncles in Briciu's house turns night 
into day (e) ; that the banquet is served before separate 
couches or imdas (/), upon which the guest (cf. Crestien) 
or the host (cf. Wolfram) reposes during the night, etc. 

The objective, material nature of the traits compared 
strengthens the probability of a definite Celtic source for 
the Crestien- Wolf ram descriptions; although a Latin inter- 
mediary in the form of Count Philip's book seems likely. 
Moreover, our evidence would indicate that the German poet 

44 Cf. above, p. [14, note, in Syr Qawayne and the Oreen Knight, 
vv. 832 ff. 

45 O'Curry, I, p. ccclix : in the round houses the royal seat was 
behind the fire fronting the door. 

46 Carl Miiller, Frag. Hist. Grœcorum, Paris, 1849, in, 260. Brown, 
see note below, cites the Greek text. 

47 Cf. the various recent discussions of the Round Table: A. C. L. 
Brown, Earv. Studies and Notes, vu, pp. 183-205; Lewis F. Mott, 
PMLA. xx, 260; J. L. Weston, Mélanges Wilmotte, reprint, Paris, 

40 NITZE [22 

followed the Celtic description more faithfully than Crestien, 
since many of his details agree with the Celtic sources as 
against the French Perceval. The fireplaces are three; the 
tables are placed before each couch {fur werder ríter viere) 
so that the general nature of the feast is preserved, while in 
Crestien only that part of it is mentioned which affects the 
hero himself; accordingly, too, Wolfram emphasizes the large 
number of attendants, their gorgeous apparel, etc., and takes 
pains to explain the miraculous origin of the abundant food 
and drink. So, also, the emphatic mention he makes of the 
chandeliers (hundert krone) may be significant. 48 Without 
entering into the moot problem of Wolfram's general rela- 
tionship to Crestien, it may at least be said that for the grail 
episode he drew on a more specific account than that found 
in the published versions of Crestien's poem. To assume 
that his fertile imagination is responsible alone for the above 
details would imply that the poet had unconsciously created 
out of Crestien's rationalized version a more primitive Celtic 
description. Against this we have Wolfram's oWn assertion 
as to another more authentic story. 49 The fact that it is 
attributed to the fabulous Kiot need not disturb us since 
Wilhelm 50 has recently pointed out similar methods in late 
classical writers. To the mediaeval mind history and fable, 
or let us say tradition, were one and the same thing. Thus 
the name Kiot could stand for the various currents of narra- 
tive, no matter what their origin was, which constituted Wol- 
fram's literary baggage. Nor should we forget that Wolfram 
had not enjoyed a school education. He affirms that he could 
neither read nor write ; " swaz an den buochen stêt geschri- 
ben," he says, 51 "des bin ich kimstelos"; what he knew he 
had gathered, by word of mouth. All the more reason, there- 

4S Compare these details with those recorded below, p. 29]. 

49 Partiva I § 827. 

50 Ueber fabulistische Quellenangaben in Beitrage xxxm (1908), 
286 ff. 

"Pareival. § 115, 27 ff. 


fore, to believe that in addition to the Perceval he had heard 
another more specific account of the grail festival : " wie 
Herzeloyden kint den grâl erwarb." On the other hand, it 
can be- shown, I believe, that Crestien's tendency to rational- 
ize was due to his national, French, impulse to strengthen 
his plot by omitting such details as were not essential to the 
action and yet did not notably enhance the setting. What- 
ever our ultimate conclusion may be : whether Wolfram drew 
only on Crestien, or also on another source, be it Count 
Philip's book or some earlier or intermediate version — the 
final original of both poets for the grail episode was the same. 
The question as to whether or not the ultimate source was 
Irish seems to depend on the correctness of the theory, ad- 
vanced by Zimmer and Kuno Meyer, that a pan-Celtic epic 
never existed, and that such similarities as these are due to 
borrowing from Irish legendaries. According to Our present 
knowledge the grail, as such, was unknown to the Irish until 
relatively late. 52 It would seem, moreover, that Crestien is 
responsible for the word graal, which is infrequent in the 
north of France. 53 Or assuming that the word occurred in 
the livre of Count Philip, Crestien translated the word 
gradalis or gradale, which may itself have been a more or 
less free rendition of a Celtic word. 54 On the other hand, 

"- Cf. F. N. Robinson, Two Fragments of an Irish Romance of 
the B. Grail, in Zt. Celt. Ph. iv, 381-393; W. I. Purdon, A Note on 
a Passage in the Irish Version of the Grail, in Revue Celt, xx ( 1906 ) . 

s3 Baist, Parzival u. der Oral, 1909, p. 13: " weil die zum An- 
richten dienende flache Schiissel, die es bedeutet, auf den Haushalt 
der Vornehmen beschriinkt war"; Martin, ed. Parzival, II, p. lvs 
" graal aus mlat. gradalis oder gradale heist danach franzosisch 
eine breite und tiefe Schiissel, worin Vornehmen kostbare Mahlzeiten 
vorgesetzt werden." Cf. Helinandus, Migne, ccxii, the text is cited 
in Nutt, Studies, p. 52, note. 

54 Sullivan, op. cit., p. ccclvi, remarks : " In the houses of the 
higher classes Cuachs, or cups of bronze, silver and even of gold, 
were to be found displayed on the shelves on festive occasions." 
Among the larger vessels of yew were Milans, or large cups on 

42 NiTZE [24 

a definite prototype for the bleeding lance has been found 
by Professor Brown. 55 And as he and others have abundantly 
shown, Irish and Welsh literature abound in the descriptions 
of magic swords and caldrons, which are usually connected 
with a mystic being, whose most prominent form is that of 
Manannán, 56 of the race of the Tuatha Dé Danaan. The 
late Alfred Nutt was the first to see clearly the importance 
of this evidence for the grail problem. Following in his 
footsteps I have recently sought to draw closer the kinship 
between Manannán and the Fisher King. The resemblance 
between the talismans of the Tuatha Dé Danaan and those of 
the grail castle has been elaborated by Brown, 57 whose evi- 
dence is further strengthened by a comparison of Gerbert's 
account of the Siege Perilous with the Lia Fail or Stone of 
Destiny, 58 both of which announce by a cry (brait) the 

a foot, Cilorns, or pitchers with handles. Curns, or horns of ox- 
horn, were much used for drinking ale — these were frequently 
mounted in silver and set with gems. Cf. the cup of bronze (Cuach 
Créduma) with a bird chased in white metal at its bottom, assigned 
to Loigaire the Triumphant in the Fled, ed. Henderson, § 59; also 
the cup of gold given Cúchulainn, § 62. The Irish for ' caldron ' is 
coire; cf. Fled, p. 10, coire an Daghdha, and O'Curry, Lectures on 
the Manuscript Materials, 1878, p. 57, the coire Breacain. 

55 See his very interesting study The Bleeding Lance, in PMLA., 
xxiv (1910), 1-59. 

56 See Nutt, Voyage of Bran, n, passim; my Fisher King in 
PMLA., xxiv (1909), 396 ff. 

57 L. c. 

58 For Gerbert, see Miss Weston, Sir Perceval, n, 140 (B. N. f. 
12576, fos. 157-158 vo.). The Siege has been sent to Arthur by 
the Fee de la Roche Menor, with the request that it be set on 
the daïs at every high feast, and the warning that only the 
knight who achieves the grail quest can safely occupy it. Of 
course Perceval seats himself in it, and at once the earth gives 
forth a brait, cleaving in all directions about the seat but leaving 
Perceval unharmed. 

Keating, History of Ireland, ed. Comyn, Irish Teœts Soc, I, 207, 
relates that the Lia Fail "used to roar under each king of Ireland 
on his being chosen .... up to the time of Conchubhar, and it 


chosen hero. As to Baist's objection that there is wanting 
"jeder besondere bestimmte Zug, der uns gestatten wiirde 
unsere Schüssel mit irgend einem der Wunderkessel zu identi- 
fizieren, die in der keltischen Mythologie zu finden sind, wie 
in jeder andern/' 59 it may be said that the talismans of the 
Tuatha possess the two specific attributes of effulgence (e) 
and life-sustenance (/) which are characteristic of Crestien's 
grail. 60 Finally, the connection pointed out long since by 
Zimmer 61 between the Arthurian festivals and the Irish com- 
munal gatherings at Tara gains further support from the ex- 
ternal resemblance between the arrangement of the Eound 
Table, which Layamon 62 is at such pains to explain (with 
its 1600 knights) and the Grail Festival. In the light of all 

is to that stone [sic] is called in Latin Saxum fatale." Cf. also 
Prose Perceval (Modena MS.), Weston, op. cit., n, 21, "et tant 
tost com il fu assis li piere fendi desous lui et braist si angoisseuse- 
ment que li siècles fondist en abisme," etc. 

59 Op. cit., p. 18. 

60 Cf. Nutt, Studies, 184; idem, note in Weston's Sir Perceval, n, 
315; Martin, Parzival, il, p. Ivi; and especially Brown, PULA, xxv 
(1909), 34 ff. As noticed by Ehrismann, Marchen ini hòfischen Epos 
in Beitrage, xxx (1905), 49, Wolfram's idea that the grail cannot 
be borne by an impure or untruthful person {Parz. §§ 235, 25; 
809, 9; 477, 15) is characteristic of Manannán's cup in the Echtra 
Carmaic; see above, p. 17], note, Zimmer, Haupt's Ztsch., xxxin, 
267; Nutt, Studies, 194. Perhaps the idea is reflected in Crestien's 
poem, v. 6387: 

Tant sainte chose est li graax, 

for physical welfare is dependent on moral strictures. 

On the question of indebtedness Brugger's observation also is 
worth considering, Z. fr. Spr., xxxv (1909), 55: "Der Plan, das 
Scenario, ist die Hauptquelle, die einzelnen Motive sind nur 
Nebenquellen (die übrigen Motive). Das Scenario wird wohl nie 
erfunden. Man entnimmt es entweder dem Leben oder der Ge- 
schichte oder Saga oder einer andern (fast immer einfacheren) 

61 Gòtt. Gelehr. Anzeigen, 1890, p. 518. 

62 Ed. Madden, n, 532. 

44 NiTZE [26 

this evidence, the practical identity of the Grail Palace with 
the Celtic Mead Hall shows to my mind that Manannán 
and the Fisher King are to all intents and purposes [origi- 
nally] the same person, though the name roi pêcheur may 
be partly due to contamination with an Oriental source. 63 In 

63 The probability of some Oriental influence in the West before 
the Crusades must be taken into consideration (cf. Zenker, Die 
Trislansage u. das persisene Epos von Wis und Ramîn in Rom. 
Forsch., 1910) ; see my remarks in PMLA., xxv, 416, on the avenues 
of ¡syncretism. Moreover, the title roi pêcheur as a synonym for 
Manannán is implied rather than proved by the dominum maris 
{filium maris) given the latter in the Yellow Bk. of Lecan and 
the identification of the name Manannán with the Menapii ("water- 
men"); see my article, p. 396, note. It is noteworthy, too, as 
Professor Warren has suggested to me, that Gawain never meets the 
grail-king fishing; so that this incident seems characteristic of the 
Perceval versions. A striking parallel to the king's lameness and 
the enchantment of his land, as well as a plausible explanation of 
the fish which he catches, is offered by the tale of the King of 
the Black Islands from the Arabian Nights — I owe to Professor 
Warren's kindly interest the knowledge of this fact. An outline of 
the story according to Chauvin, Bibliog. des ouvrages arabes, vi, 
Paris, 1902 (No. 222), p. 56, is as follows: 

( 1 ) By the aid of a genius a fisherman catches daily four fish 
of different colors which he takes to the king of the country. (2) 
After being broiled, the fish are asked by a beautiful maid whether 
they are true to the "agreement." They reply 'yes'; whereupon 
she chars them by upsetting the roaster. (3) The king then inter- 
views the fisherman, who conducts him to a lake situated between 
four mountains. Although near his city, the lake had been unknown 
to the king. (4) After two days travelling they reach a black 
palace which is apparently deserted. (5) Led on, however, by 
the sound of groans, the king comes to a room in which a young 
man. in fine garments, occupies a throne. He is the king of the 
Black Islands, and his lower extremities have been petrified by 
enchantment. His subjects have been turned into fish. (6) This 
misfortune was brought upon him by his treacherous wife who 
loves a black man. (7) The visiting king succeeds in killing the 
latter, and compels the wife to remove her enchantments (by water). 
Then he kills her. (8) Ultimately the king of the Black Islands 


other words, the underlying concept which in time became 
the Legend of the Grail was Celtic, and not primarily Eastern 
or Christian, whatever its later history may have been. 

As to its form, we should bear in mind Kuno Meyer's 
remark: " dass Stoff u. Stil dieser Sagen jahrhundert lang 
fortgepflanzt worden, ehe sie zur Aufzeichnung gelangten, 
geht u. a. daraus hervor, dass sie fast durchweg in mehreren 
Versionen auf uns gekommen sind. 64 This multiplicity 
doubtless stands in close relation to the number of grail 
redactions that have been handed down ; and versions to all 
outward appearances alike may well have descended from 
similar yet distinct originals. The cyclic redactions testify 

rules over the whole land. JV. B. It requires two incantations 
(p. 57) to restore (1) the lame king. (2) the land and its in- 

While one might be tempted to see in the Oriental story the 
material of Count Philip's Book (see above, p. 3]), this possibility 
seems to me precluded ( 1 ) by the fact that Crestien's scenario is 
obviously Celtic; (2) that his talismans are explainable only on a 
Celtic basis; (3) that his fisher king like Cormac, Bran, Llew. 
etc., has been wounded by a lance; (4) that a fisherman of a 
supernatural race was known to the Celts in the Welsh form 
of Grwgno Garanhir, famous both for the fish he catches and the 
mwys or basket which can supply the whole world with food (see 
my article, pp. 397-398) ; (5) that the fishing theme is of well- 
nigh universal occurrence, though especially current along the Medi- 
terranean, and (6) that Philip's book was a story of the graal 
(Perceval, v. 64), to which we have no specific Oriental parallels as 
close as the caldron {coire) of Daghdha; on whom, as an agricul- 
tural god, see D'Arbois de Jubainville, Cours de litt. celt., ri, 269 ff. 

Thus it would seem that if an Oriental strain be present in 
Crestien's source at all. it is secondary; that is, due to contact of 
an Eastern legend with Celtic tradition (the Perceval form) at a 
point which we cannot now determine. Our present testimony does 
not seem to me to admit of any other conclusion. On the fish as 
a zoomorphic symbol of life, see my article, pp. 391 ff., and R. Eisler. 
Orpheus and the Fisher of Men in Early Christian Art, p. 8 of the 
Quest, a quarterly, London, 1910. 

64 Romanische Literaturen u. Sprch., 1909, pp. 82-84. 

46 NITZE [28 

to the attempt of the organizing French mind to bring a new 
order out of the Celtic confusion. Thus, while we cannot 
expect to find the particular version on which Crestien and 
Wolfram drew, we may at least conjecture what this version 
was like. 

Of the various Manannán-otherworld descriptions extant 
the most typical, especially as to technique, is the oft-men- 
tioned Serglige Conculaind or Sick Bed of Cúchulinn from 
the Lei) or na h-Uidre. I hesitate to bring it forward once 
more. It is, however, so good an example of how the great 
shapeshifter wins the services of a mortal hero that it may 
well be taken as a partial prototype of the Perceval quest. 
Rhys 65 has already connected it with Peredur's adventure 
with the Empress and Owen's visit to the Lady of the Foun- 
tain, in which connection it has been elaborately treated by 
Brown in his Y vain study; and Ehrismann is inclined to see 
in it a source of the Wigalois 66 (Guigelain). Our object 
thus is to point out a basal type, to which the otherworld visit 
represented by Crestien's source roughly conformed, rather 
than a version with which Crestien was actually acquainted. 67 
For if we eliminate for the time being the love motive from 
the Serglige, whereby Fand occupies the foreground, and 
assume that Manannán is the prime mover in the story 68 — 

65 Arthurian Legend, 300 if. 

66 Ehrismann, Beitrage z. Gesch. d. deut. Spr., etc., xxx, 30. 

67 Of value in this connection is also the description of Da Derga's 
Hostel, edited by W. Stokes, Revue Celtique, xxn, pp. 9 ff . (see 
especially, pp. 306-307) from the Lebor na h-Uidre and the Yellow- 
Book of Lecan. Here is the Luin which Brown identifies with the 
Bleeding Lance, PMLA., xxv, 18. Da Derga, it is said, "wore a 
green cloak and a shirt with a white hood and a red insertion. In 
his hand was a sword with a hilt of ivory, and he supplies attend- 
ance of every imda in the house with ale and food, and he is quick- 
witted in serving the whole host." 

68 As I remarked in my Fisher King, op. cit., 411, "the underlying 
fact is the identification of Life and Fertility with the creative 
power of moisture." This is also fundamental in the Yvain, which 


in whose behalf the hero has been summoned — we get a 
general setting which recalls in many details PercevaPs visit 
to the grail castle. 

It is Liban/ 9 wife of Labraid Swift-Hand-on-Sword [cf. 
the host's niece la sore pucele, Wolfram's Eepanse de Schoye 
{J oie) y who presents Perceval with the sword, Crestien, v. 
3107], who, assisted by Fand, acts as messenger. 

Red and green prevail in their garments [see (a) and (/)]. 

The palace lies " over a pure lake," which they cross in a 
bronze boat. They reach it in the fraction of a minute 
[see the suddenness with which the grail castle appears in 
Crestien] . 

Labraid is called Long-Hair, and there is another king 
with him in the palace [cf. the two grail-kings 70 ] . 

Three fifties about each of them 

Fifty beds on the right side 

Fifty beds on the left side 

Front rails to the beds of wood, 
Their posts of white gilded over. 
And the light they have 
Is a precious glittering stone. 

seems to me a reidentification of local folklore with the formula 
of the otherworld visit, see Modern Philology, vu, 160-161. 
It is noteworthy that Fand = " tear-drop," and that Liban, ac- 
cording to Khys {Bib. Lect., 463), is elsewhere associated with a 
magic well which overwhelms her and changes her into a mermaid. 
The rain-storm consequent on the appearance of the grail in some 
of the romances ( e. g., Perlesvaus, Pot. I, 90 ff . ) and the abundance 
of water after the grail visit, mentioned by Wauchier, v. 20340 ff., 
bear on this point. 

69 1 follow Brown's summary, Iwain, a Study, pp. 34 ff. ; with 
occasional reference to Thurneysen's German translation, Sagen aus 
dem alten Irland, pp. 81 ff. 

70 Cf. my Fisher-King, p. 398; also A. Nutt, Folklore, xxi, 1 li- 
the Fisher-King's father is "the Mikado of the myth, the super- 
sanct representative." 

48 .....-,;, NITZE [30 

[see (d) and (e)]. 

There are three-score trees 

Their tops barely touching. 

Three hundred men are nourished by each tree, 

With fruit manifold, without rind. 

There is a icell in the noble sîd, 

With three fifties, gay mantled; 

And a brooch of gold, fair in color, 

In every one of the gay mantles. 

There is a cask there with joyous mead, 

Which is distributed to the household. 

It continued ever, enduring is the custom, 

So that it is always constantly full. 71 

[see (/) — particularly Wolfram]. 

There is a woman in this noble house; 
She is superior to the women of Ireland; 
With golden hair she comes out 
In her accomplished beauty. 7 " 

There is a woman in this noble house; she is superior to 
the women of Ireland; 

Her speech to the men of each king 
Is beautiful, is wonderful. 

[see la sore pucele, Repanse]. 

Loeg, the charioteer of Cuchulinn^ says that had he not 
withdrawn quickly : 

They had wounded me so that I had been powerless. 

The woman whom I speak of there, 
She robs the hosts of their wits. 

71 Thurneysen, p. 95. 

"ewig bleibt es, unvergiinglich 
stets gefiillt bis an den Rand." 

72 Thurneysen, p. 96. 

" Tritt heraus im blonden Haar, 
Wonnevoll und reich begabt." 


When finally Cúchulinn is separated from Fand lie wanders 
for a long time without drink and without food among the 
mountains, and " 'tis then that he slept every night upon the 
road to Midlúacra " 73 [see Perceval's wanderings, Crestien, 
vv. 6180, Wolfram, bk. ix, 

" S'an ai puis eii si grant duel 
Que morz eusse esté mon vuel " 

Crestien, vv. 6343-6345]. 

We have now seen that in every important respect the 
earliest extant grail quest can be explained on a Celtic, perhaps 
ultimately an Irish, basis. I may, therefore, reaffirm positively 
what I said tentatively in my Fisher King: that the myth 
" descends in direct line from the primitive Celts." As con- 
cerns the ritualistic side of the Crestien- Wolfram account, it 
is clear that the action of the French version hinges on the 
question : 74 Quel riche home Van an servoit. This question, 
we are told, relates especially to the Fisher King's father; 
i. e., to the life-god himself. 75 Bearing in mind that the 
caldron of the Tuatha is noted for its life-giving qualities, 
and that the Tuatha Dé were considered the "holders and 
givers of life," 76 so that they could even restore the dead to 
life, 77 we see that the form of the question practically ex- 
plains itself. 78 Crestien may have found it, at least the hint 
for it, in Count Philip's book, which thus was an account of 
a pagan ceremonial, in its appropriate setting. This Crestien 
undertook to interpret in his customary scholastic manner: 

73 The mountains of Sliabh-Luachra between Limerick and Kerry 
in Munster. 

74 Baist, op. cit., p. 18. 

75 Vv. 6380-6381 (Qui filz est a celui, etc.); see my Fisher King, 
p. 398. 

76 Nutt, Voyage of Bran, II, 195. 

77 Keating, History of Ireland, Irish Texts Soc, I, 203. 

78 On the relationship of the question to the Irish gess, and to 
folklore, see Ehrismann, op. cit., 50, and Hertz, Parzival 2 , 445 ff. 


50 NITZE [32 

as a test of chivalric fitness. As for the destructive effect of 
the lance, this too was indicated to him, but perhaps by a 
different source. In the Gawain-section 79 MS. 794 reads : 

Del sane tot cler que ele plore 
Ert escrit que il ert ancore 
Que toz li reaumes de Logres, 
Qui jadis fu la terre as ogres, 
Ert destruite par cele lance. 

vv. 6129-6133. 80 

79 See Miss Weston, Sir Perceval, I, 178 ff., on the Gawain tradi- 
tion. Professor Warren has repeatedly called my attention to the 
fact, which others seem to have overlooked — including myself — that 
Gawain never meets a fisherman in a boat, and that, in fact, his 
chief concern in the story is with the bleeding lance, and not with 
the grail: in Wauchier, e. g., the lance bleeds into a silver cup, 
and in the Crône: 

Daz sper von gotes tougen 
Wart grôzer tropfen bluotes drî 
In dem tobliere, der im bî 

w. 29418-29421. 

See Brown, PMLA., xxv, pp. 50 ff., on the tradition of the enchant- 
ment of Great Britain as seen in the Balin story and Gawain's visit to 
the Grail Castle in Wauchier's Continuation. This fits in well with 
my theory of a multiplicity of closely related sources, see above, p. 
27], which were easily united by the French romances. Ferdi- 
nand Lot's criticism of Miss Weston (Bibl. de l'école des Chartes, 
Lxx, 571 ff.), for considering other material than Crestien's portion 
of the Perceval as of first-class importance in the grail discussion, 
seems to me to go too far. 

80 For the second line Baist gives among the " hergestellte Le- 
sung " : E s'est escrit qu'il iert tel ore, which must be approximately 
correct. Crestien did not rime plore and ancore. Huet has dis- 
cussed the readings of this passage in Rom. xxxvn, 301-305. In 
v. 6133 we should probably read sera destruiz for ert destruite of 
MS. 794; see Baist and Huet. 

As for the rime Logres : ogres, it is interesting to note that 
Crestien used it before, in Charrete, vv. 3532 ff. 

An la place qui estoit plainne 
Des janz del reaume de Logres 


On the other hand, Perceval had been told that it was owing 
to his failure that: 

" Dames an perdront lor mariz 
Terres an seront essilliees 
E puceles desconselliees." 

vv. 4640-4642. 

So we may conclude that the sacramental nature of the story 
was already a part of Crestien's source, remembering, how- 
ever, that his continuators in some respects had a clearer 
notion of it than he, and returned to the wellsprings " of 
which the livre gave only an imperfect synopsis." I have 
purposely omitted from the present discussion all reference 
to them and to Robert de Boron, for the obvious reason that 
their works are later than Crestien's and were planned with 
reference to his — although it is equally clear that they had 
access to the same general body of tradition that he did. 
In the case of Wolfram, however, our discussion has shown 
that his detailed account of the gralburg may point to the 
use of Crestien's own source or one closely akin to it in 
material. For whether or not, as Heinzel 81 maintained, 
Wolfram drew on Kiot, and Kiot on Crestien's source — 
Wolfram's version, as we have seen, is in some respects more 
chaiacteristically Celtic than that of Crestien. 

Qu'aussi con por oïr les ogres 
Vont au mostier a feste anvel. 

Here, however, ogres = orgues, see Foerster, Charrete, p. 474 ; 
whereas above, as in the Letre de Faramont a Meliadus, pubi, in 
the Rev. d. lang. rom. xxxv, 233, ogres = paiens ('der menschen- 
f ressende Riese ' ) . 

81 Ueber Wolframs von Eschenbach Parzival in the Sitzungsb., 
cxxx, 29 if., of the Vienna Academy, 1893. 



T. Atkinson Jenkins 

In the introduction to a noteworthy volume, La Vie en 
France au Moyen Age, d'après quelques moralistes du temps, 
1908, Ch.-V. Langlois called attention to the poem which 
follows here, including it in a list of minor satirical works, 
then unpublished, which seemed to him to deserve the notice 
of the historian of French society of the thirteenth century. 

As to form, the work of Eenaud is in no wise remarkable : 
monorimed Alexandrines in quatrains is the commonest of 
all the stanzas used in Dits and Etats du Monde by the 
bourgeois poets of the epoch of St. Louis. 1 

As to style also, without admitting the entire truth of 
Piaget's statement: Qui a lu deux ou trois de ces poèmes les 
connaît tous, it is true that there are marked resemblances of 
tone and expression in the poems of this group. We read, 
for example, in Eenaud's work : 

Joustise est esclopee et droiz vait a potences; 

and, in the Vie du Monde of Rustebuef : 

Puis que justice cloche et droiz pent et encline. 

Of the Last Judgment Eenaud exclaims,, 

1 Naetebus's index includes 107 poems in this form, mostly of the 
thirteenth century. The Contenz dou Monde, for some reason, was 
overlooked: perhaps because the copyist arranged the Alexandrines 
in half lines of (usually) six syllables. Godefroy, who read the poem, 
usually cites it in this erroneous form, and under the bizarre title, 
Contempt dou Monde. 

[1 53 

54 JENKINS [2 

Quant je bien m'en porpens toute la char me tremble; 

similarly, with almost identical phrase, Jean de Meung, 
Testament, 1967: 

Las! quant il m'en sovient trestous li cors me tremble. 

As to the satirical matter, however, the invectives of Re- 
naud d' Andón fully meet the requirements so well formulated 
by M. Langlois : they are " original, sincere, and founded 
upon direct observation " ; moreover, the indignant poet has 
composed his censorious quatrains with considerable vigor of 
thought and diction. Finally, it may be stated that Renaud's 
work is by no means without linguistic color and interest. 2 

It is much to be regretted that the whole of the first part 
has been lost. We should have found there, no doubt, the 
needed explanation of the title, which has been gathered from 
the Explicit. The word contenz 3 is well known in the sense 
of < contention/ ( dispute/ Were this noun in the plural, 
there would be little difficulty in translating the title; in the 
singular, the meaning is not altogether clear, unless, like Lat. 
lis, we may at times take contenz in the special sense of 
' dispute at law/ and translate, " The World's Indictment," 
or " The World brought to Judgment." 

This interpretation gains in force when we reflect that the 
author of this versified procès du monde was probably a lawyer, 
or a lawyer's clerk. He shows, in fact, intimate acquaint- 
ance with both lay and ecclesiastical courts (st. 3, 4), he is 
familiar with law terms (st. 29), quotes the exact words of 
the judge (st. 21), and scorns the petty barristers who can- 

2 Only one MS. of Le Contenz dou Monde is known, and that is 
incomplete: Bib. Nat., f. f. 1593, fo. 141-145 vo. I am indebted to 
M. Joseph Bédier for an excellent photograph of the text. 

3 Contenz, verbal substantive of contender, is of course at first 
indeclinable. L. Constans is therefore in error (Chrestomathie, 3 p. 
182) in deriving the secondary form content (cp. esfort, romant, 
etc.) from Lat. contentum. 


not even translate the Latin of their legal documents (st. 
lid). We notice that after an enumeration of various other 
kinds of sinners, he returns with predilection to the corrupt 
judges (st. 51 if.). The linguistic indications favor the idea 
that the Andon of Renaud was Andonville in the Gâtinais, 
not far from Pithiviers; if this theory is correct, Renaud's 
poem may appear in the light of a satire on the courts of 
the region of Orléans, in the second half of the thirteenth 

The work can hardly be younger than this, for Renaud 
does not rime IE : E as do, at times, Philippe de Rémy 
(f 1296), Rustebuef, Guillaume Guiart, the Roman de F au- 
vel, and possibly also the authors of the Roman de la Rose. 4 " 
The flexional -s is also practically undisturbed; most of the 
exceptions are to be set down to the copyist. It seems there- 
fore too early to admit the contractions asseurement 3b, 
deust lib, meurer 15d (in view also of deilst 74d, eiist 16c, 
veôir 23d, jeune 12c), altho it is precisely to this region that 
Suchier ascribes the beginnings of the change to which we 
owe the modern French bonheur, malheur. 5 

That the Contenz dou Monde was written in the neighbor- 
hood of Orléans rather than in that of Chartres (there is a 
second Andonville in the Department Eure-et-Loire) is indi- 
cated by many resemblances between the language of Renaud 
and that of Guillaume de Lorris, Thibaut, author of the 
Roman de la Poire, and Guillaume Guiart. Like these 
writers, Renaud rimes EN : AN" freely, while Jean le Mar- 

4 Auler, Der Dialekt der Provinzen Orléanais u. Perche im 13. 
Jhdt., p. 29. The form guieres, not admitted by the copyist (st. 64), 
is nevertheless abundantly attested in Rose (Auler, p. 41) and else- 
where. Cp. Suchier, Les Voyelles Toniques du Vieux Français, p. 
73; G. Paris, Romania xxx, p. 365, n. 4. 

5 Die Franzosische u. Provenzalische Sprache u. ihre Mundarten, 
2te Aufl., p. 744. For Guillaume Guiart, born in Orléans and 
writing in 1306, asseurement is still a word of five syllables: Branche 
des Royaux Lignages, Vol. I, pp. 129, 131. 

56 JENKINS [4 

chant, who completed his collection of Miracles de Nostre 
Dame de Chartres in 1262, keeps the two classes of words 
strictly separate. Eenaud also rimes eslite : mérite (st. 91) 
while Chartres is again outside the territory which shows this 
development of Lat. E + I in the thirteenth century (see 
Suchier's Map xii). 

Two peculiar rimes remain to be considered. St. 26 de- 
meures: jusqu'aleur es: deseures: meures, which may be com- 
pared with st. 80 desore: devore :hore: demore. The appear- 
ance of alores in this group is surprising, but cp. mores: des- 
lores Poire p. 53-4; parole: gole Jean de Meung, Testament 
p. 100; forre: encorre Rose (Méon) II, 322. More to the 
East, the versified Vegetius also offers hores: encores (Wen- 
delbron 40 a). In alores, encores this irregularity may be 
due to association with hore(s), especially in phrases like par 
Inores, puis Vore que, etc. 

In st. 87 occur cort (cuetum) : tort (toequet) : secort: 
cort (coi-ioetem). Similar irregular rimes used by Jehan le 
Marchant (la mors: secors, sors: plors, etc.) and by the author 
of the Roman de Fauvel (la mors: amors) have been dismissed 
as inexact, 6 but it is more probable that we have in il tourt, 
la mows, etc., a pronunciation current to some extent in this 
and the neighboring territory to the eastward: quatourze 
(Yonne), empourte (Cote-d'Or), etc. 7 

What we possess of the vocabulary of Renaud d* Andón 
shows some features of more than ordinary interest; one may 
mention the rare words oerole (2a) druges (55b) assiver 
(10a) desabrier (57b), etc., some of them known only from 
their occurrence here. The last has been made the subject of 

6 Folster, in Ausgaben u. Abhandlungen xliii; Hess, in Romanische 
Forschungen xxvii, p. 315. Palsgrave (p. 785) records je teurs, 
but this form may represent je tuers, il tuert being well known 
(Suchier, Voyelles toniques, p. 31). 

7 E. Goerlich, Der Burgundische Dialekt im xiii. u. xiv. Jahr- 
hundert, pp. 87-88. Cf. also Atlas Linguistique, Carte le tordre 
(No. 1316). 


a short notice by G. Paris. 8 These and other noteworthy 
words and forms are collected, with a few comments, in a 
glossary at the end of the poem. 

Le Contenz dou Monde. 

1. ... por lui achoisoner. [fo. 141, a, 1] 

2. Li lais qui riens ne set de plet ne de berole 
Tout sanz conseil d' autrui commence sa parole : 
S'uns seus moz trop ou poi de la bouche li vole 
Il est tout errant pris et mis en la jaiole. 

3. Amender li co vient ainz qu'il isse de cage, 
Et baillier de l'amende, seiirement ou gage. 

L'en fet a la cort laie maint tort et maint outrage 
Par défaut de joustise et de bon seignorage. 

4. Povres hons qui est trez en cort de sainte église 
Est ausi atachiez com chiens a terre glise; 

Le petit que il a chacuns li apetise : 

Ce sont genz sanz pitié et plain de covoitise. 

5. [P]lain sont de covoitise avocat et notaire, 
Tout avant veulent estre paiez de leur sallaire; 
Quant ont tret de la gent ce qu'il en puent traire 
Aucune pes honteuse li conseillent a faire. 

6. Li avocat qui ont les granz chapes forrees 
Manguent bones genz jusque enz es correes; 

Nus n'en tret son chatel qui emprent tés denrées; 
Par le païs en sont maintes lermes plorees. 

8 Mélanges Linguistiques, publiés par M. Roques, p. 453. 
2 e. MS. un seul mot. 3 o. ms. asseurement. 

6 c. ms. les corrected to tes. 

58 JENKINS [6 

7. Li avocat soustienent les baraz et les fuites [fo. 141, 
Par que les bones genz sont mortes et destruites, a, 2. 
S'en manguent les barz, les saumons et les truites: 

De mal feu puissent il avoir les langues cuites ! 

8. [M]al-feu[s] arde leur langues qui huent corne chate, 
Car nus n'en a conseil se trop chier ne l'achate ; 

Des bones genz n'ont cure qui ont la borse plate, 
Se n'est aucuns trichierres qui les guile et barate. 

9. [L]i plus grant mestre sont de la partie au riche; 
Li povres qui ou plet met quanqu'il a et fiche 
Prent quelqu'avocateau qui le barate et triche, 

Si font devenir large aucune [s] fois le chiche. 

10. [C]il emporte l'argent et point ne li assive; 
Quanqu'il vet langue tant ne li vaut une cive. 
Jaçoit ce que il ait bone raison et vive 

Quant il cuide estre au chief si se trove a la rive. 

11. Quant il cuide avoir fet s'a tout a commencier, 
Car cil li desavance qui deiist avancier. 

Tuit se font avocat cil ribaut bobancier, 
Tex qui ne savroit mie .ii. moz enroman cier. 

12. [C]il qui ont en cest siècle [141,6,1] l'avoir et la pecune 
Et qui eslievé sunt par le don de fortune, 

Cil ont les bons consaus, li povres en jeune, 
Qu'il n'a dont il refraigne covoitise l'enfrune. 

13. [A]vocat par nature sont aver et prenant, 
Don feüssent a prendre car il sont bien prenant, 
Car covoiteus de prendre ne sont pas aprenant: 
Il prenent et recovrent touz jors au remanant. 

10 "b. MS. ne li vaut pas. e. MS. quii. 

11 6. MS. qui le deust. 12 6. sunt in margin. 


14. [I]l aiment plus deniers que ne fet une choe : 
Qui nés paye sus l'ongle si braie[nt] corne poe. 
Touz jors tendent la main corne singes la poe: 

S'il n'est plus que paiez trop petitet s'en loe. 

15. [I]l aloignent sentence et font le plet durer 
Quant la partie puet les despens endurer; 

Touz se gaste li povres ainz qu'il viegne a jurer; 
La sentence est si dure qu'el ne puet meürer. 

16. [I]l aloignent au povre sentence et jugement, 
Et font le plet durer par leur conchiement. 

Li povres qui n'eüst mestier d'aloignement 
Ne puet sigre le plet ne soffrir longuement. 

17. [P]ar force li covient, voille ou nom, défaillir 
Come cil qui ne puet [fo. 141, b, 2] ne muer ne saillir. 
Li riches lions le fet d'autre part assaillir, 
Semondre en plusors leus por li plus malbaillir. 

18. [L]i povres lions ne puet les despens alegier, 
Ne trove qui li prest ne quii voille aplegier; 

Or se laist entredire, or se laist engrigier 
Corne cil qui ne puet amender de legier. 

19. [TJout en nonchalissant se met en son afere, 
Et laist toz jors ovrer la partie adversere. 

Li riches tret de cort tout ce qu'il en veut trere, 
Nus ne li escondit, nus ne li fait contrere. 

20. [T]ant est li plez siguz et la chose menee 
Que la vérité [z] est changiee et bestornee, 
Que vaincuz est li povres par sentence donee 
Et dampne[z] des despens tout a une jornee. 

15 d. Ms. Quele. 19 c. ms. riches hons. 

60 JENKINS [8 

21. [L]i juges ne puet mes qui done la sentence, 
Quant li droit sont escrit qui rigle[n]t la sentence; 
De riens ne doit jugier dont il soit en doutance, 
Mes de ce seulement dont il a conois sance. 

22. [PJovres hons qui pledoie n'a pas bien sa cort close, 
Li avoirs au riche home [fo. 142, a, 1] li respont et oppose. 
Nus conseil ne li done qu'il ne veut ne qu'il n'ose, 

Si emporte li riches tout le gras de la chose. 

23. [D]ex! quant vendra li juges qui toz nos jugera, 
Qui set touz les secrez quanqu'en fu et sera, 

Qui sanz conseil d'autrui nous examinera? 
Lors porra l'en veoir qui miex alliguera. 

24. [Q]ui seront ore cil qui miex alligueront? 
Cil qui les bones oevres en cest siècle feront. 
Por nous et contre nos noz oevres crieront: 

La langue se tera, les oevres parleront. 

25. [I]l n'i aura ja langue qui ost un mot tentir; 
L'oevre l'acuseroit s'ele voloit mentir. 

Fox est qui jusqu'alores s'atent a repentir; 
Trop se puet li pechierres tarder et alentir. 

26. [Es] tu quéque pechierres qui en pechié demeures, 
Si te lo repentir, n'aten pas jusqu'aleures ; 

Se tu ne faiz tandis com tu es an deseures 

Tu faudras au pardon corne renart aus meures. 

27. [C]i vaut la repentance qui la riens ne vaudra; 
S'il ne te chaut de toi, ne sé cui en chaudra; [fo. 142, 
Ja ne garderas l'eure que la mort t'asaudra a, 2] 
Car pooir de bien faire plainement te faudra. 

28. [Mo]lt fet a redouter cele pesme jornee 
Ou nos serons jugié tuit a une fournée. 


Ja nule creature n'en sera destornee 
Qu'ele ne soit jugiee selonc sa destinée. 

29. [Q]uant tuit serons venu a cel jour peremptoire 
N'i aura proposé, barre ne dilactoire; 

Qui avroit toute loy et decrez en mémoire, 
Ne li vaudroit il pas la queue d'une poire. 

30. [AJvocat ne sauront aliguier ne plaidier; 
S'il puent ici nuire, la ne porront aidier. 
Payez sera chascuns ensemble d'ui et d'ier: 

Je criem que toz li miaudres n'ait preu a Deu vidier. 

31. [A] merveilles sera cil juges cler voianz, 
Il conoistra cliascun et verra hors et anz; 

Toz li sens de cest monde [li] sera bien neanz; 
Avocat crieront l'enseigne as recreanz. 

32. [L]i sage de cest monde seront fol et tapé, 
Li aver comperront ce qu'il ont ci happé; 

Li bon morsel seront [fo. 142, i>, 1] as gloutons eschapé, 
Les salisses camelines et li poivre trapé. 

33. [L]i glouton de cest monde seront mu et taisant, 
Trop se font ci servir, trop se vont aesant; 

Mes ne troveront la ne perdriz ne fesant, 

Ne nul des bons morsiaus qu'il vont ci glotissant. 

34. [B]ien avront cil glotón #hangié denz et gencives 
Qui por une ribaude corroient bien .ii. lives; 

Bien sachent il qu'a Deu [ja] n'avront pes ne trives, 
Leur langues lechierresses ardront mortes et vives. 

35. [H]elas, mont seront ore mort et desbareté 
Une gent qui se sont por noient endeté 

30 a. MS. seront. 

62 JENKINS [10 

En fesant leur ordure et leur chaitiveté: 
Li deliz de la char est de molt chier chaté. 

36. [Mo]lt est de chier chatel li deliz de luxure, 
Wi a que vaine gloire, rien ne vaut et poi dure; 
Si conchie le cors et met Parme en ordure, 

C'est vil tez, vanitez, chaitivetez, ordure. 

37. [U]ne autre gent i a qui sont en pechié d'ire, 
Se li juges les het ce ne fet pas a dire. 

Mes il voudra le grain de la paille d'élire [fo. 142, b, 2] 
Et severra l'ordure du miel et de la cire. 

38. [U]ne autre gent i a mauvese et pereceuse 
Qui n'est pas de bien faire chaude ne curieuse, 
Ainçois gastent leur tens et metent en oiseuse : 
Contr'aus dira li juges sentence dolereuse. 

39. [HJelas, puis conoistront et verront leur sotise 
Cil qui sont abevré du feu de covoitise; 

C'est li feus au deable qui embrase et atise 
Les cuers ou ne se fiert li solaus de jostise. 

40. [S] us toutes genz seront cil usurier boulé 
Qui ont l'avoir aus povres sorbi et engoulé. 
He Dex ! moût seront ore cil vil mastin foulé 
Qui ont par lor angoisse le monde triboulé. 

41. [L]es bones genz qu'il ont traï vilainement, 
Li barat qu'il ont fet et li conchiement, 
Tesmoigneront contr'aus molt esforciement : 
Contr'aus dira li juges sentence et jugement. 

42. [OJrguex est encruchiez mes il descruchera, 
Li orguex de ce monde humiliez sera 

42 a, d MS. Orgoil. 


Quant li soverains juges trestouz nos jugera; 

Orguex chaï du ciel, [fo. 143, a, 1] jamés n'i montera. 

43. [A]vec les orgueilleus seront examiné 
Une gent qui au siècle n'ont pas droit cheminé 
Et ont autrui domage volu et destiné; 

De l'espine d'envie ont leur cuers espiné. 

44. [Mo] It a qui bien porpense maie chose en envie; 
En viens n'envieuse n'avront ja bone vie; 

En l'anui son voisin se baigne et glorefie; 

Tant vuet l'autrui domage que son preu en oublie. 

45. [U]ne autre gent i a foie et desafievee 
Qui ont a loy de beste nature vilenee; 
Sachiez la creature qui einsi s'est menee 
Assez miex li venist qu'el ne fust onques née. 

46. [Mo]lt vaut poi ceste gloire et molt est chier vendue 
Quant toute leur deserte leur en est ci rendue; 

Li cors se gaste et font et l'ame en est perdue 
Et au gibet d'enfer encroee et pendue. 

47. [Q]uant nos devant le juge serons trestuit venu, 
Li plus sage du monde seront por fol tenu; 

Li juges savra tout, le gros et le menu, 

Wi avrà riens covert, tout ert apert et nu. [fo. 143, a, 2] 

48. [U]ne autre gent i a, qui de Deu soit maudite, 
Qui déçoivent le monde : ce sont f aus ypocrite 

Qui ont par vaine gloire la char vaine et aflite; 
Il en sont ja payez si en ont leur mérite. 

49. [Mo]lt fet a redouter cil juges, ce me semble, 
Qui touz nos jugera, ames et cors ensemble; 

45 a. MS. desafienee. 

64 JENKINS [12 

Dex set tot et voit tot, nus [hons] riens ne li emble; 
Quant je bien m'en porpens toute la char me tremble. 

50. Quant devant lui sera touz li mondes presenz, 
Corrompuz n'iert cil juges par dons ne par presenz; 
Prises seront les choses legieres et pesanz; 
Estront de chien vaudront estellins et besanz. 

51. [L]i juge de cest monde qui donent les sentences 
Par presenz, par biaus dons, laschent leur penitances; 
Leur pois n'est mie bons ne joustes leur balances; 
Joustise est esclopee et droiz vet a potences. 

52. [L]i juge de cest monde ont la main si enfrune 
Por recevoir les dons, por prendre la pecune, 

Qu'il ne voient droit fere au soleil n'a la lune; 
Il nos vendent jostise qui doit estre commune. 

53. [I]l tornent et bestornent [fo. 143, b, 1] les droiz et 

Et colourent les faus et leur donent painture; 
Dex set tout et voit tout, rien ne vaut coverture; 
Il voit declenz le cors et partout trove ordure. 

54. [I]l n'est riens tant soit fete en repot n'en celé 
Qui ne soit a cel jour seü et revelé; 

Ce que fut mal jugié sera tout rapelé; 
Cil qui les autres plument seront tirepelé. 

55. [N]e seront pas chaucié de la saie de Bruges 
Cil glotón pautonier qui ci poient de druges. 

Ou sera leur destors? Ou sera leur refuges? 
Dex sera querellierres et avocat et juges. 

56. En acusant dira: Bien pert que poi m'amastes, 
Quant j'oi faim entre vos mangier ne me donastes; 

50 6. MS. presens. 51 d. ms. droit. 54 c. fut] ms. sera. 


J'oi mésese de soif, onques ne m'abevrastes ; 
Je fui nuz, sanz ostel, onques ne m'ostelastes. 

57. Quant avront escouté, respondu ou nié 
Qu'il onques ne le virent nu ne desabrié, 
Mort de faim ne de soif ne d'ostel desbrié, 
Si avez, dira Dex, l'avez vos oublié? 

58. [E]n aligant voudra pro ver s'entencion [fo. 143, 1), 2] 
Cil sages avocaz dont je faz mension; 

Por metre ses contreres a redargución 
Einsi aliguera sens et discreción : 

59. [V]ous me veïstes bien quant mes povres veïstes, 
Mes d'aus qui sont mi membre garde vous ne preïstes; 
Ce qu'aus membres veastes au cors escondeïstes, 

Ne feïstes moi ce qu'a l'un d'eus ne feïstes. 

60. [L]ors dira sa sentence qui est ferme et estable, 
Et dira corne juges parole esperitable: 

Fuiez, li maleoit, en paine pardurable 
Avesques les deables, si soiez de leur table ! 

61. [N']i avrà qui entende a former son apiau, 
Ne seront pas en vente sainture [s] ne chapiau ; 
Li miex vestuz n'avra que les os, que la piau; 
Tex traîne escaríate cui faudront viex drapiau. 

62. N'i avrà chevel mort ne autre chose aposte. 
L'en porra tout veoir et devant et en coste; 
N'i avrà nul ne nule qui ait robé son oste, 

Car n'i avrà ja chose celée ne reposte. 

63. Ne seront pas si cointes ne si ensafrenees 

Les dames qui se sont [fo. 144, a, 1] folement démenées. 

57 a. MS. Quant cil. 59 6. ms. ne vous. 


66 JENKINS [14 

Il semble qui les voit que ce soient poupées, 
Mes el[s] iront en chief toutes developees. 

64. [L']en porra tout veoir et devant et darrieres, 
Les dames seront nues corne les chamberieres ; 
Tex tiennent ci por beles qui nel seront la gu[i]eres, 
Car miex que les torsiaus vaudront les sarpillieres. 

65. [L]es musartes achatent fardes et tanqueliques, 
En ce metent .xx. souz qui ne vaut pas .ii. pipes. 
Bien cuident de leur gorges que ce soient reliques, 
Plus venimeuses sont que n'est .i. baseliques. 

66. [D'J autre part verra l'en jouer as trembleriaus 
Ces ribaus de taverne, ces mauves harmeriaus. 
Touz jors n'avront il mie leur bons ne leur aviaus, 
Ne se porra covrir baraz ne tremeriaus. 

67. [N*]i avrà duc ne conte ne roy n'empereour 
Qui ost les ieux lever contre son sauveour; 

Lors devront avoir crieme cil ribaut licheour 
Quant li saint et les saintes trembleront de paour. 

68. [N']i avrà ja si cointe qui ost les ieux lever, 

Et por ce se doit l'en ça aval moût pener [fo. 144, a, 2] 

De soffrir une paine por si grant eschiver; 

Miex vaut que l'en se gart que l'en se laist tuer. 

69. Il fet trop bon soffrir un poi de penitance 
Por la paine eschiver de si pesme sentence; 
Mes nos volons avoir les oués et la letance, 
Nous volons ci l'enprunt, la volons l'aquitance. 

70. [S] e nos enpruntons ci, ci nos co vient paier, 
Que la n'avons nos gage qui nos puist aplegier. 

66 d. MS. tarât. 


Qui ci corrouce Deu ci Pestuet apaier; 
Se la char est trop gaye ci Pestuet chastiër. 

71. [S] e la char est trop gave, ci la co vient donter, 
Car la char ne se paine que de Pâme ahonter, 

Et qui lairoit la char a son voloir monter 

Il faudroit a son esme quant il devroit conter. 

72. [L]a char si est a Pâme quanqu'ele puet contraire: 
1/ame demande sac et la char pene vere, 

I/ame veut le bacin, la char vet le vin trere, 
La char veut dras de lin et Pâme veut la here. 

73. [l/]ame crie: Je voil letues et croisson, 
Et la char dit encontre : Je voil char et poisson. 
L'arme dit: Fol pech[i]erre, [fo. 144, b, 1] va a confession 
Et la char dit encontre : J'oi du mortier le son. 

74. [17] ame et la char estrive[nt] en itel[e] maniere 
Si tire Pune avant et l'autre [tire] arriere ; 

La char veut estre dame et porter la baniere 
Qui par raison deüst estre sa chamberiere. 

75. [S] e vous volez au siècle netement cheminer 
Et de cele sentence estordre et eschiver, 

Il vos covient la char batre et decepliner; 
Se nos enpruntons ci, ci nos covient finer. 

76. [Q]ui se sent endetez fox est s'il ne s'aquite, 
Aquitons nos tandis com la mort nos respite. 
La mort vient en aguet que que fox se delite, 

A Pun vient en apert et a Pautre soubite. 

77. [L] a mort qui vient plus tost que quarriaus ne destent 
L'un tresbuche a ses piez, Pautre laist en estant; 

73 c. MS. va a ta c. 75 c. ms. nos. 

68 JENKINS [16 

El [e] laist le viel home sa roigne degratant 
Et prent [le] jovencel qui se cointoioit tant. 

78. [T]uit somes d'un aage quant a la mort atendré, 
Car li arz est tenduz et touz prez de destendre; 

Nus n'a point de demain, ce doit chascuns entendre; 

[fo. 144, h, 2] 
Qu'il soit touz aprestez quant Dex le voudra prendre. 

79. [S] e nous avons le tens folement despendu, 
Aquitons nos a Deu qui a son arc tendu, 

Et s'il avant destent que nos avrons rendu, 
N'avrons de quoi finer, trop avrons atendu. 

80. Aquitons nos tandis com somes au desore(s), 
Ainz que la mort nos morde, qui tot mort et devore. 
Eox est qui prent respit d'une toute seule hore, 
Car nus tant ne se haste qu'i ne face demore. 

81. Je qui hete les autres sui li mains aprestez, 
Li mains aisiez d'atendre et li plus endetez; 
J'ai vers Deu guerroie des biens qu'il m'a prestez. 
Si ai fet de mon cors les larges foie tez. 

82. [S]e Dex n'en a merci, ja ne m'en verrai quite [s]. 
Sire Dex, qui es cors pacefiëz habites, 

Tot adés te rent graces dont tu tant me respites, 
Tes vertuz sont plus granz que ne sont mes mérites. 

83. [H] e biau douz sire Dex, par ta sainte pitié, 
Des que ton plaisir est que tant m'as respitié, 

Du lien me deslié ou Satan m'a gitié 

Et me done conquerré [fo. 145, a, 1] ta tres douce amistié. 

84. [J]e sui com li oyseaus qui au laz bret et crie, 
Qui ne s'en puet oster se on ne li aïe. 

80 6. MS. nos mort. 


Biau douz Dex debonaires, fei tost si m'en deslié, 
Je ne m'en puis aidier si voi bien ma folie. 

85. [J]e sui miex comparez que chose que je sache 
A l'oysel qui au laz se débat et desache: 

Fere cuide son preu mes il fet son domache, 
Car li laz plus estraint que il plus tire et sache. 

86. [J]e ne sui pas cheiiz en .i. laz seulement, 
Ainz me sui embatuz en plusors foie ment, 

Car l'arz estoit tenduz par grant detenement; 
Dex m'en git, si li plest, cui j'en pri doucement. 

87. [Q | uant li un [s] de ces laz qui si me tienent cort 
Me lasche tant ne quant, li autres serre et tort; 
Morz sui s'a cest besoing ne m'ai* de et secort 
Nostre dame des anges qui moût bien est de cort. 

88. [H] e douce mere Deu, glorieuse Marie, 
Fontaine de pitié, qui ja jour n'ert tarie, 
Aide moi, se te plaist, j'ai mestier de t'aïe, 

A ton filz me racorde, a ton filz me ralie. [fo. 145, a, 2] 

89. [D]ouce dame piteuse, en cui moût je m'afi, 
Bien me poëz aidier, car je le sai de fi; 
Depriëz vostre pere, commandez vostre fi 

Qu'i me face habitant de son bon edefi. 

90. [D]ame en cui maint pitiez et deboneretez, 
Priez vostre chier filz por touz les endetez ; 
Dame, nos vos disons toutes noz privetez, 
Nus n'i metra conseil se vous ne le metez. 

91. [D]ame plaine de grace, desús toutes eslite, 
Dex en vos regarder se soulace et delite. 


84 d. MS. pus. 86 d. ms. gite. 87 d. ms. La dame. 




Grant fiance avons tuit, dame, en vostre mérite, 
Si venons tuit a toi ansi com a garite. 

92. [D]ame, je vieng a vos, pech[i] erres et coupable [s], 
Que vos me soiez murs et chastiaus desf ensable [s] 
Encontre l'anemi qui tant est decevable [s] ; 

J'en serai vostre hons liges et vostre redevable [s] . 

93. [D]ame de paradis en cui touz biens abonde, 
Qui n'estes, douce dame, premiere ne seconde, 
Deprie ton chier filz, le roi de tout le monde, 

Que de touz noz péchiez nos face pur (s) et monde. 

94. Renaut d'Andon qui parle [fo. 145, &, 1] n'en veut ore 

plus dire, 
Mes chacuns et chacune qui ces vers orra dire 
Deprist le haut seignor qui governe l'empire 
Qu'en ceste mortel vie nos doint s'amor eslire. 
Explicit le contenz dou monde. 


abevrer 39, 56. 

achoisoner ld. 

acuser 25, 56. 

adversere adj. 19. 

s'aesier 33. 

(aflire) aflit 48. 

aguet, en — , 76. 

ahonter 71. 

aidier 84d Ind. Ps. 3 aïe 84b, 

aïde 87c; aide moi 88c. 
aisié de 81b. 
aient ir 25. 
alliguer 23, 24. 

aloignement 16. 

aloignier 15. 

alores 25, 26. 

amende 3. Herzog, Streit- 
fragen, Vol. i, p. 98, n. 
would derive this word 
from Lat. emenda, from 

amender 3, 18. 

apaier 70. 

apetisier 4. More commonly 
ayeticier, as G. Guiart, I, 
p. 169 : apetice: faitice; but 

91 d. toi] read vos? Cp. 93 c. 


cp. apetise:ise Audefroi le 
Bastart, éd. Brakelmann, 
p. 108 ; : brise, Rom. xiv, 
p. 474. 

apiau 61. 

aplegier 18, 70. 

(apondré) ptcp. apost 62. 

aquitance 69. 

(asseurement) 3b. 

assiver 10a. ' share equally/ 
' share/ Cp. Godefroy es- 
sever 2, and the variant 
assever for essever 1. The 
etymon is exaequare (A. 
Thomas, Mélanges d'Ety- 
mologie française, 1902, p. 
72) whence essiuer, as iuer, 
iwer, AEQUARE, iuel, iwel 
AEQUALEM. desiuer *DIS- 
AEQUARE is also known 
(Brand, Studien zur Ge- 
schichte v. inlaut. qu in 
Nordfrankreich, 1897, p. 
35), also desdiver *disad- 
aequare(?) G. Guiart I, 
144: granz fossez La faiz 
ou le plain desayve, A 
cisel, en roche nayve. 

Str. 34 lives, trives ( : vi- 
ves) show the same change 
of iu to iv, a change wide- 
spread in the second half 
of the thirteenth century 
(Eustebuef, Eose, G. Gui- 
art, Angier) but not in the 
north (Ph. de Beauma- 

noir) nor in the east 

(Poème moral), 
atisier 39. 
avel, pi. aviaus 66. 
avocateau 9. 

Barat 7. 

barater 8. 

barre 29b. 

baselique 65. 

barz (pi.) 'bass' 7c. The 
correct form (in the plu- 
ral) is rather oars; cp. the 
rime in Helinand's Vers de 
la Mort XLVii, 5, and, for 
the etymology, Revue des 
Lang. rom. xlviii, p. 193. 

berole 2a. Apparently the 
same word as ber ele, ' agi- 
tation/ ' dispute/ which is 
used by G. Guiart (i, p. 
298) and by Eustebuef, 
Vie S te. Marie VEgiptienne 
325 : sanz vos sui en fort 
b érele, Sanz vos ai perdu 
ma querele. Cp. the doub- 
let rossignol-rossignel in 
Eose (Auler, op. cit., p. 

besant 50. 

bestorner 53, 20. 

bobancier ' arrogant '11. 

bouler 40a (dht xiv century) 
( roll/ here apparently ( de- 
ceive/ as in G. Guiart i, p. 
133 : Bien a leur gent esté 
boulée. Cp. bole ' deceit/ 




(Camelin) sausses camelines 

celé, en — , 54a. 

oliamberiere 64. 

chapiau 61. 

chatel, chaté 6c, 35d. Chaté, 
re-made from the nom. 
chat es, is used also by Kus- 
tebuef (: preste De la Po- 
vreté R., 7-8) and by Jean 
de Meung (ed. Michel il, 
p. 358). Ebeling seems to 
me over-cautious in not ad- 
mitting the rime costé: 
oste (I), Auberee 207. See 
his remark, p. 50. 

chief, aler en — , 63d; estre 
au —, lOd. 

ehoe 14a. 

clervoiant 31a. 

cointe 63, 68. 

se cointoier 77d. 

colourer 53b ' palliate ' i ex- 
cuse.' Cp. coloration in 
this sense, used by G. 
Chastellain (dht). 

comparer 85a. 

comperar 32b. 

conchiement 16b, 41b. 

concilier 36c. 

conseil, pi. consaus 8, 12. 

contraire i injury ' 19d, 58c ; 
adj. 72a. 

cort, estre bien de — , 87d; 
clorre bien sa — , 22a 
' make oneself safe,' ' take 

good care of oneself.' Cf. 

Li Proverbe au Vilain, No. 

191 : Bien a sa court close, 

cui si voisin aiment. 
correes (pi.) 6b. 
críeme, avoir — , 67c. 
croisson ' water-cress,' 73a. 

D arriéres 64a. 

debonereté 90a. 

decepliner 75c. 

décret 29c. 

degrater ' scratch ' 77c; cp. 
G. Guiart u, p. 20, where 
the word seems to be used 
with comic intent. 

depriër 93c; Ps. Sbj. 3 de- 
prist (= deprit) 94c. 

desabrió 57b. Cp. G. Paris, 
Mélanges linguistiques, p. 

desachier 85b. 

desafie ver 45 a. Wanting in 
Godefroy; cp. prov. afevar 
' inféoder ' and 0. Fr. des- 
fievé ' dépossédé.' 

desavancier lib. 

desbaraté ' discomfited,' ' de- 
stroyed,' 35a. 

desbrié(?) 57c. Cp. G.Paris, 
Mélanges linguistiques, p. 
453. The occurrence of 
desbrié just underneath de- 
sabrió (57b) seems to me 
suspicious, especially as a 
verb *desbrier or *brier is 
otherwise quite unknown. 


Possibly the correct read- 
ing is desprié, ( déprié ' 
1 désinvité,' and the mean- 
ing £ refused shelter/ an- 
swering to 56d : Je fui nuz, 
sans ostel, onques ne m'os- 

In 0. Fr. the commoner 
expressions with ostel are : 
querré ostel, tenir ostel, 
prendre ostel, avoir ostel, 
préster ostel; the shift 
from the literal meaning 
' lodging ' to the fig. use 
í shelter ' e hospitality ' ap- 
pears in avoir ostel en mai- 
son, Partonopeus 7855, 
mercier qqn de son ostel, 
avoir cliier Vostel de qqn, 
Crestien de Trojes, Charete 
960-1. Parallel to pren- 
dre ostel we have prendre 
herbergement (Marie de 
France, Chievrefeuil 34) ; 
like avoir ostel is avoir her- 
berjage (Béroul, Tristran 
1360). So Jean le Mar- 
chant, p. 135 : Li clers ala 
ostel querant . . . Deman- 
da por Deu herbergage. 

With prier we find Si li 
(var. le) prie de herber- 
gier Charete 2036, Vos 
vuel proiier del remenoir 
ibid. 142 (so Erec 6505, • 
cp. 4062, 4623), de boivre 

ne de mengier Ne la co- 
vient ja mes proiier ibid. 
4191. From infinitive- 
substantive (' ask to ') we 
pass to substantives (' ask 
for'): prier qqn de joie, 
Maetzner, Lieder x, 30; 
prier qqn de pitié ibid, 
xxvii, 14 ; de conseil ibid. 
XLii, 47; de mestier 
Bartsch, Romanzen u. Pas- 
tourellen n, 75, 21, while 
prier qqn d'amor (cp. 
Ebeling, Auberee, p. 62) 
has remained into the 
modern language. There 
seems therefore no reason 
to doubt the legitimacy of 
the expression prier qqn 
d'ostel, or d'ostelage. 

Of déprier, dht found 
no instance recorded older 
than the xvith century 
(R. Estienne), but it is 
well known that both the 
older and the modern lan- 
guage create with extreme 
readiness these compounds 
with des-, dé- (cp. Gode- 
froy s. v. des-, and Nyrop, 
Gram. hist, m, p. 213 : On 
forme de ces verbes tous 
les jours). G. Guiart, for 
example, uses desr enter (i, 
29), desconter (i, 44), des- 
terrer (i, 61), descheviller 




(i, 142), etc.; Jean le 
Marchant creates equally 
unstable compounds : des- 
enfler, p. 130, desestre, p. 
174, desardoir, p. 169, etc. 
descruchier 42a (cp. encru- 
chier, ibid.) The word 
means ' fall from a height J 
or transitively ' throw 
down.' Cp. G. de Degul- 
leville : Ainsi comme le 
vent trébuche Le fruit des 
arbres et descruche (Gode- 
froy s. v. descrochier) ; 
Gilles li Muisis i, p. 102: 
S'en voit on aucuns [the 
rich] descrukier, Be si 
haut en bas trebukier; G. 
Guiart i, p. 303 : Quant 
Tyois qui entour conver- 
sent Voient le dragon tres- 
buchier Et V aigle doré 
descruchier, Li plus hardis 
. ... en fuie tome; Am- 
broise, Hist, de la Guerre 
Sainte, 10071. A variant 
appears to be descrunkier 
(Godef. s. v.). 

Contrariwise, encruchier 
(wanting in Godef roy) 
appears to mean ' place on 
high ' í lodge/ I have 
found but two other in- 
stances of this verb. Jean 
le Marchant, p. 93 : Car 
sus un de ses piez cheï 

Tout dou tranchant une 
coigniee Qui ert sus le char 
encruchiee ; G. Guiart i, p. 
189 : Tant de grosses pier- 
res i gastent, Et si souvent 
là les entruchent (1. en- 
cruchent) Cune grant 
partie en [du mur] trébu- 
chent. We may have to do 
here with the word *krouka 
assumed by Schuchardt, 
ZfRP. xxvi, p. 316, mean- 
ing ' heap ' ' pile ' and of 
Celtic origin ; cp. c pile on ' 
and 'pile off' in English 

deserte 46b. 

deseures, estre en — , 26c. 

desfensable 92b. 

destendre 77a. 

destinée 28d. 

destiner 43c. 

destor 55c. 

detenement 86c. 

developer 63d. 

dilactoire 29b. 

discreción 58d. 

drapiau 61d. 

druges, de — , 55b. For the 
etymon, cp. Schlutter, 
ALL. xiii, p. 287 (Herzog, 
ZfRP. xxviii, p. 627). 
Druge = i surabondance' 
(Scheler) fits very well 
here, also to the passage 
Les deus Troveôrs Ribauz 


12 : Certes ce n'est mie de 
druges Que tu es si chaitis 
et las, where Bartsch-Horn- 
ing translate ' moquerie, 
plaisanterie.' We may add 
G. Guiart I, p. 247: (li 
rois) Son courroux ne tint 
pas a druges, 'the king 
held not his anger to 
be excessive (superfluous, 
idle)/ Cp. drugier ' pous- 
ser abondamment/ 

Eden 89d. 

s'embatre 86b. 

emprendre 6c. 

encroer 46d. 

encruchier 42a; cp. descru- 

chier, note, 
s'endeter 35b. 
enfrun 12d, 52a. 
engouler 40b. 
engrigier 18c. 
enromancier lid. 
ensafrené 63a. 
entredire 18c. 
errant 2d. 
escaríate 6 Id. 
eschiver 68c, 69b. 
escloper 51d. 
escondire 59c. 
esforciement 41c. 
esliever 12b. 
esme 71d. 
espiner 43d. 

estable 60a. 

estellin 50d. 

estordre 75b. 

estovoir 70c. 

estre Imp. Sbj. 6 f eussent 

estriver 74a. 
estront 5d. 
examiner 43a, 23c. 

Fardes (pi.) 65a. 

se ferir 39d. 

fesant 33c. 

fiance 91c. 

fi, savoir de — , 89b. 

fichier 9b. 

finer 75d, 79d. 

íoleté 81d. 

forré 6a. 

fouler 40c. 

fournée 28b. 

fuite 7a ' trick/ ' evasion/ 

Garder, ne — Peure 27c. 

garite, venir a — , 9 Id. 

se gaster 15c. 

gencive 34a. 

gibet 46d. 

gitier 83c, Ps. Sbj. 3 git 

86d (ms. gite, with one 

syllable too many. Cp. 

giet Pean Gatineau 985, 

glise, terre — , 4b. 
se glorefiër 44c. 




glotir 33d. 
(guieres) 64c. 
guiler 8d. 

Habitant 89d. 

happer 32b. 

liarmerel 66b. Godefroy has 
but one example of this 
word s. v. hermerel; he 
conjectures ' sorte de va- 

here 72d. 

hetier 81a. 

huer 8a. 

humilier 42b. 

Jaçoit ce que 10c. 
jaiole 2d. 

Laissier Ps. Ind. 3 laist 18c 
(=lait); Ps. Sbj. 3 laist 
68d; cond. 3 lairoit 71c. 

langueter 10b. 

large ' extreme ' 8 Id. 

lechieresse 34d. 

letance, vouloir avoir les 
oués et la — , 69c ( want to 
have both the eggs (of 
the female fish) and the 
sperm' (of the male); 
hence ( want more than is 

letue 73a. 

licheor 67c. 

live 34c ' league.' Cp. assi- 
ver, note. 

Membre 59b. 

mension, faire — , 58b. 

messe 56c. 

meure, more 26d. 

meiirer 15d. 

morsel 32c. 

mortier, oïr le son du — , 
73d. The expression 
means, ' to hear sounds 
suggesting preparations for 
a luxurious meal/ spices 
being formerly ground 
fresh daily. So Eustebuef, 
LaVoie de Paradis, 401 ff. : 
Glotonie .... 
Refet sovent le mortier 

Enchiez Hasart le taver- 

nier .... 
Ne quiert oïr que bole et 

feste .... 
Qui est ses keus a assez 

paine .... 
Jubinal's translation, mor- 
tier = carnet de dés, is 

muer 17b. 

mus art 65a. 

Netement 75a. 

(nonchaloir) ptcp. pr. non- 
chalissant 19a. A parallel 
to the more common O. Fr. 
vaiUìssant, and to be ex- 
plained in the same way; 
cp. Risop, Studien zur Ge- 



saudite der frz. Conjuga- 
tion auf -ir, p. 81. 

Oiseuse, metre en — , 38c. 
ongle, payer sus V — , 14b. 
opposer 22b. 
osteler 56d. 

Pacefiër 82b. 

painture, doner — , 53b. 

pardurable 60c. 

pautonier 55b. 

pecune 12a, 52b. 

pene vere 72b. 

perdriz 33c. 

pereceus 38a. 

peremptoire 29a. 

pesme 69b, 28a. 

petitet, trop — , 14c. 

potences (pi.) 51d. 

poupée 63c. 

priveté 90c. 

plumer ' plunder ' 54d. 

poe (f. of paon) 14b. 

poe ' paw ' 14c. 

poi c too few ' 2c. 

poier ' grow in fortune,' 
'flourish' 55b. 

poivre trapé 32d. One of 
the many espicene s popu- 
lar in medieval cookery, 
poivre (pi.) indicating the 
various kinds of pepper 
(and perhaps other spices) 
used in making sauces, 
preserves and drinks. I 

find mention of poivre 
chaut, p. aigre, p. aigret, 
p. long, etc. These when 
ground in a mortar (cp. 
73d, dir le son du mortier) 
and mixed with wine, vine- 
gar, etc., gave the chief 
flavor to the preparation. 
Poivre seems to have been 
used also in the sense of 
' powdered spice ' in gen- 
eral ; the collection of cook- 
ing receipts (c. 1300) pub- 
lished by Douët d'Arcq 
(Bib. de VE cole des Char- 
tes 5, i (1860), p. 207 if.) 
mentions poivre aigre, jet 
de gingenbre et de canele. 
Similarly, pepper is not 
specifically mentioned in 
the confection of the peve- 
rada described in the Libro 
della Cocina (early xivth 
century, ed. Zambrini, 
1863, Scelta xl). This 
sauce consisted of toast, 
saflran, spices, wine or 
vinegar, etc. 

,On the principle pars 
pro toto it is likely that 
poivre was. also used in the 
sense of ' vin d'espicene,' 
in Roman de la Rose (ed, 
Michel) i, p. 362: 
Dames lor braceront tel 

poivre .... 




where the figurative inter- 
pretation need not affect 
the argument (cp. brader 
levain ' foment rebellion/ 
E. Deschamps i, p. 286). 
Similarly, in later times, 
piment means both ' spiced 
wine ' and ' pepper ' (cap- 
sicum, or red pepper). 

It is more difficult to 
ascertain the precise mean- 
ing of trape, a form sup- 
ported here by the rich 
(over-rich) rime. Three 
alternatives suggest them- 
selves : 

( 1 ) trape ' instrument 
de cuisine ? is more specifi- 
cally defined by Cotgrave: 
trape de feu, ' a fire-panne, 
or panne for coles/ which 
suggests the preparations 
called brasés (see the col- 
lection of receipts pub- 
lished by Paul Meyer, 
Bull. Soc. d. Ane. Textes 
Frç., 1893, p. 55, n.) ; 

(2) trape — l eau-de-vie* 
is instanced by Vidossich 
(ZfRP. xxx (1906) p. 
202) who associates the 
word with OHG. *trab 
(inferred sg. of Treber) 
and with Romance grapa; 
hence trape = ' brandied ' ? 

(3) trape = ( macre ' 

6 water-chestnut/ fruit of 
Trapa natans (Rolland, 
Flore populaire vi, p. 6), 
the flour of which, it is 
stated, has been much 
used in the West of 
France as " thickening " 
to various bouillies, no 
doubt also as dressing to 
spiced preparations. Cp. 
the preserve called Pyne- 
iee (P. Meyer, No. 21) : 
Vyn, sucre, boillez en- 
semble, gingebras e meel 
.... e serra adressé en 
cofinz de flor de chasteynz. 

porpenser 49d, 44a. 

proposé 29b (Godefroy, xvith 

Quanque 10b ' however much.' 
Cp. Tobler's Beitràge m, 
p. 10. 

quarrel 77a. 

querelleour 55d. 

Racorder 88d. 

raliër 88d. 

recreant 3 Id. 

redargución, metre a — , 58c. 

redevable 92d. 

remanant 13 d. 

(repondre) ptcp. repost 62d, 

respit, prendre — , 80c. 
respitier 83b, 76b. 



reveler 54b. 
rigler 21b. 

rive, se trover a la — , lOd. 
< be left behind/ 

r oigne 77c. 

Sac ' sack-cloth ? 72c. 

saie de Bruges 55a. 

sallaire 5b. 

sarpilliere 64d. 

seignorage 3d. 

semondre 17d. 

(sevrer) fut. se verra 37d. 

sigre 16d; ptcp. sigu 20a. 

sorbir 40b. 

se soulacier 91b. 

Tanqueliques (pi.) 65a. A 
word unknown elsewhere 
in this form; perhaps a 
variant of triquenique 
i bagatelle ' í knick-nack ? 
of which Sainéan speaks 
ZfRPxxx (1907), p. 272. 
Tanquelique also suggests 
quiquelique, equally ob- 
scure as to meaning: the 
clerks of Orleans 

claiment la Dyaletique 
Par mal despit [la] Qui- 

Bataille des .VII. Arts, 
15-16. It seems likely 

that we have here a bit 
of students^ Latin slang, 
*quisquilica, made from 
Lat. quisquilia, ' rubbish ? 
' fatras/ on the model of 
rlietorica, etc. 

taper 32a. 

tentir 25a. 

tirepeler ¿ tirailler ' 54d. Go- 
defroy cites two passages 
containing this word from 
the Ovide moralisé. 

torsel 64d. 

(traper?) trapé 32d, see 
poivre, note. 

(tremble rei) jouer as trem- 
bleriaus 66a = ( trembler/ 
with pun on the expression 
jouer au tremerei. 

tremerei ' cheating at dice ' 

tribouler 40d. 

trives (pi.) 34c. Cp. assi- 
ver, note. 

Ui, d' —, et d'ier 30c. 

Veer 59c. 
venimeus 65d. 
vidier 30d. 
viex 6 Id. 
vilener 45b. 
vilté 36d. 





Joseph Bédier 

Ce qu'on appelle l'épopée française, ou — d'un nom plus 
familier aux hommes du moyen âge — les chansons de geste, 
ce sont soixante-dix ou quatre-vingts romans, tous du Xlle 
ou du XHIe siècle. Ils sont pour la plupart des romans his- 
toriques, car ils mettent en scène des personnages qui vécu- 
rent réellement, du Ve au Xe siècle, Clovis ou Charles le 
Chauve, Girard ou Charlemagne, Roland ou Raoul de Cam- 
brai. Pourquoi des poètes du Xlle siècle ont-ils pris pour 
héros de leurs romans des hommes morts depuis tant de 
siècles ? En cette question tient tout le problème de l'origine 
des chansons de geste. On y peut faire deux réponses, et 
deux seulement: 

Ou bien les poètes du Xlle siècle se sont intéressés à ces 
personnages du temps jadis parce que d'autres poètes l'avai- 
ent fait avant eux, ou d'autres conteurs, dont les plus anciens 
avaient été des contemporains soit de Raoul de Cambrai, soit 
de Charlemagne, soit de Clovis, et les romans du Xlle siècle 
sont alors des renouvellements de ces antiques récits ou 

Ou bien les poètes du Xlle siècle se sont intéressés à ces 
personnages parce qu'ils avaient des raisons à eux, vivantes 
de leur temps, de s'y intéresser: en ce cas, les romans du 
Xlle siècle sont des romans du Xlle siècle, et il faut les 
interpréter comme tels : en interrogeant, non pas les livres 

1] 81 


82 BÉDIER [2 

du Vile siècle ou du Xe, mais la vie du Xlle, et, pour les 
plus anciens de ces romans, la vie de l'époque immédiatement 
antérieure, le Xle siècle. 

De là deux théories qui s'opposent toutes les fois qu'il 
s'agit d'expliquer 1' " élément historique " d'une chanson de 
geste. Xous étudierons ici une légende où le conflit se 
montre en toute son acuité. 

* * * 

En 1842, Paulin Paris avait cru remarquer, entre les 
chroniques qui retracent les débuts de Charles Martel et des 
romans qui retracent les fabuleuses " enfances " de Charle- 
magne, certaines analogies. Elles étaient vagues. 1 En 1865, 
Gaston Paris les précisa, 2 et c'est ici l'une de ses jolies décou- 
vertes, de celles qui semblent menues et qui ne le sont pas: 

Dans trois romans du Xlle ou du XlIIe siècle, Berte aux 
grands pieds, Mainet, Basin, on lit que Charles (Charle- 
magne), fils de Pépin (Pépin III, le Bref), eut comme adver- 
saires en sa jeunesse deux personnages nommés l'un Eainfroi 
et l'autre Heldri. — Dans les annales et chroniques des années 
716 à 719, on lit que Charles (Charles Martel), fils de Pépin 
(Pépin II), eut comme adversaires en sa jeunesse deux per- 
sonnages nommés l'un Raginfredus et l'autre Chilpericus. 

Puiginfredus donne régulièrement en français Eainfroi; 
Chilpericus, non moins régulièrement, Helpri. Il peut 
arriver à chacun 3 de dire ou d'écrire Childéric pour Chilpéric, 
Heldri pour Helpri. 

1 Ayant résumé les récits légendaires selon lesquels Charlemagne 
enfant aurait été persécuté par une marâtre, puis par les fils de 
celle-ci, Paulin Paris ajoute : " Il se peut que dans ces traditions 
tout ne soit pas controuvé et imaginaire. Pépin d'Héristal avait 
eu deux femmes, l'une desquelles, Alpaïs, fut seulement une concu- 
bine; et Charles Martel, fils d' Alpaïs, eut longtemps à lutter contre 
sa marâtre Plectrude et contre les enfants de cette marâtre." 
(Histoire littéraire de la France, t. xx, 1842, p. 703.) 

2 Dans son Histoire poétique de Charlemagne, p. 438-442. 

3 G. Paris (l. I.) a noté deux exemples de cette méprise : dans les 
Miracula sanctae Glodesindis, ouvrage composé à Gorze dans la 
seconde moitié du Xe siècle (Pertz, 88., t. iv, p. 237, ligne 23), on 


Si l'on accorde, et qui voudrait s'y refuser? que nous 
sommes ici en présence de cet accident, la concordance est 
parfaite, l'identification s'impose, et M. Pio Eajna l'a constaté 
en ces termes pleins de justesse : " La critique a le devoir 
d'être prudente et de ne pas confondre les hypothèses avec 
les vérités de fait; mais il faudrait renoncer à tout espoir 
d'atteindre jamais le vrai par d'autres voies que celles de 
la simple déduction ou de l'aperception directe, si cette 
fois on ne concluait pas que Eainfroi et Heudri sont indubi- 
tablement le Eaginfred et le Chilpéric de l'histoire." 4 

Avec la même justesse, M. Eajna a insisté 5 sur le fait 
qu' Ileldri, Heudri est un mot de bonne formation populaire. 6 

Au temps où furent écrits nos trois romans, le nom 
de Chilpéric était devenu rare: aussi, quand les clercs 
rencontraient Chilpericus dans un vieux livre latin, ils le 
rendaient en français comme ils pouvaient, par quelque 

lit Childericus pour Chilpericus; et "dans le très vieux poème sur 
saint Léger, Chilcléric II est appelé Chielperig." J'ai rencontré à 
mon tour ce troisième exemple: la Vita Nivardi, texte du IXe siècle 
(Monumenta Germ, histórica, Scriptores rerum mer ovin gicarum, t. v) 
donne une fois (p. 168, ligne 3) Chilpericus pour Childericus. 

4 Pio Rajna, Le origini dell' epopea francese (1884), p. 213. 

3 Ibidem, p. 211. 

6 II en est de même de Rainfroi; mais, pour Rainfroi, le fait n'a 
pas d'intérêt. C'était un nom encore très porté au Xlle siècle. 
Un poète du Xlle siècle, qui aurait lu dans un livre latin Ragin- 
fredus, l'aurait presque nécessairement transcrit Rainfroi. Pour em- 
ployer une forme savante telle que Raganfroi, qui se lit dans les 
Chroniques de Saint-Denis (voyez Rajna, ouvr. cité, p. 211), et 
qui ne se lit guère que là, il faut presque faire exprès. Aussi 
Philippe Mousket traduit-il régulièrement par Rainfroi (v. 1725, 
etc. ) le Raginfredus de sa source. On trouve dans Y Historia regum 
Francorum monasterii s. Dionysii (Pertz, 88., t. ix, p. 399) 
Rainfredus (ligne 15) auprès de Ragenfredus (1. 11); Raenfredus 
et Rainfridus chez Adémar (88., t. iv, p. 114) ; chez Hugues de 
Flavigny (88., t. vin), Rainfredus (p. 339, 1. 41) ou Raimfredus 
(p. 342, 1. 10); Rainfredus dans les Miracula s. Veroni (88., t. xv, 
p. 750, 1. 50) et dans YHistoria Fossatensis (88., t. rx, p. 372, 
1. 41) ; etc. 

84 BÉDIER [4 

forme savante et gauche, Chilperic/ ou Chielperig* ou 
Ciperis. Puisque nos romanciers, eux, disent Heldri, c'est 
donc qu'ils n'avaient pas sous les yeux un livre latin qui 
leur donnât Cliïl pericus ; tout se passe chez eux comme si 
le nom n'avait cessé depuis les temps mérovingiens d'évoluer 
normalement et comme s'ils l'avaient trouvé vivant dans 
la tradition. 

Peut-être aurons-nous à limiter plus loin la portée de 
cette remarque. Quoi qu'il en soit, le fait principal est 
certain, et nous devons l'accepter une fois pour toutes, sans 
restriction: le Rainfroi et l'Heldri de la légende sont bien le 
Eaginfred et le Chilperic de l'histoire. 

Ce fait, comment l'interpréter? Selon G. Paris (c'est le 
premier des deux principes d'explication possibles), ces fables 
des chansons de geste procèdent d'une très lointaine tradition 
populaire. Après lui, des auteurs nombreux ont adopté cette 
opinion : le cas de Eaginfred, adversaire de Charles Martel, 
transformé par la légende en Rainfroi, adversaire de Charle- 
magne, leur semble offrir l'une des preuves les plus fortes 
de l'ancienneté des chansons de geste. 10 Dès le Ville ou 
le IXe siècle, des récits ou des chants auront célébré Charles 
Martel et ses luttes contre Eaginfred et Chilperic; transmis 
d'âge en âge, ils se seront un jour fondus avec d'autres chants 
ou récits, dont Charlemagne était le héros; on attribua au 
petit-fils, plus glorieux, les aventures de son aïeul; c'est un 
" transfert épique " ; c'est même l'exemple-type du trans- 
fert épique, celui que les auteurs allèguent le plus volontiers. 
Quand les poètes du Xlle et du XHIe siècles rimaient les 
romans de Berte, de Mainet, de Basin, ils renouvelaient, sans 

7 Chilperic dans les Chroniques de Saint-Denis, chez Philippe 
Mousket, etc. 

8 Chielperig dans le Saint-Léger. 

9 Un roman du XVe siècle est intitulé Ciperis de Vignevaux. 

. 10 Arsène Darmesteter, entre autres, le dit dans un article de la 
Revue critique de 1884, reproduit dans ses Reliques scientifiques , 
t. il (1890), p. 50. 


en soupçonner eux-mêmes l'ancienneté, des poèmes plus vieux 
de quatre ou cinq cents ans. 

Cette théorie est séduisante. Est-elle vraie? et ne peut-on 
pas, ici comme en tant de cas analogues, recourir à l'autre 
principe d'explication ? 

* * * 
Avant d'entrer dans cette recherche, nous voudrions dire 

quelques mots touchant la méthode. 

Pour traiter le cas d'Heldri et Rainfroi, est-il indispen- 
sable de discuter d'abord la théorie de G. Paris ? Ne suffirait- 
il pas, voulant proposer une autre solution que la sienne, de 
la proposer dès maintenant? Si elle est juste, elle s'impo- 
sera d'elle-même. Hélas ! il n'en va pas ainsi. L'expli- 
cation que nous tenons en réserve ne saurait^ nous l'avouons 
d'avance, s'imposer d'elle-même; par elle-même, en mettant 
les choses au mieux, elle n'est que vraisemblable. 
L'autre, celle de G. Paris, est vraisemblable elle aussi, à 
tel point que notre seule intention de la contredire doit 
surprendre par sa témérité. Elles peuvent être l'une et 
l'autre vraisemblables, et pourtant, l'une disant : " Ces romans 
du Xlle siècle procèdent de très anciens modèles perdus," 
l'autre disant : " Ces romans du Xlle siècle sont des romans 
du Xlle siècle," elles sont contradictoires, et par suite l'une 
des deux, même vraisemblable, est erronée. Mais comme elles 
sont les deux seules hypothèses possibles, et qu'il n'est au 
pouvoir de personne d'en former une troisième, il faut aussi 
que l'une des deux soit vraie. Donc, tout ce qu'on pourra 
opposer de valable à l'une fortifiera l'autre; à la limite, si 
l'on parvenait à prouver que l'une est fausse, l'autre ne serait 
plus seulement vraisemblable, mais nécessaire. C'est pour- 
quoi toutes nos monographies de légendes, celles que nous 
avons publiées déjà, celles que nous publierons bientôt, com- 
portent deux discussions, qui ne sont à vrai dire que deux 
éléments solidaires d'une même démonstration: la première, 
négative, dirigée contre l'hypothèse des origines anciennes de" 
la légende considérée; la seconde, positive, où nous recourons 

86 BÉDIER [6 

à l'autre principe d'explication, cherchant dans la vie du 
Xlle siècle des circonstances et des conditions propres à 
expliquer la formation de la légende. Ces conditions et cir- 
constances peuvent avoir été autres que celles que nous 
croyons; elles peuvent en certains cas nous rester tout à fait 
mystérieuses; il n'en reste pas moins, si nous avons réussi à 
écarter comme impossible l'hypothèse contraire, que c'est 
dans le Xlle siècle qu'il faut chercher. La discussion néga- 
tive nous importe donc bien plus que l'autre. Dans le cas 
d'Heldri et de Eainfroi comme dans les cas semblables, 
renoncer à discuter la théorie des origines anciennes, ce 
serait affaiblir la théorie adverse, celle des origines récentes; 
ce serait la trahir, puisqu'il faudrait se résigner à la présenter 
comme une hypothèse simplement plausible, alors que la dis- 
cussion de la théorie contraire lui conférerait peut-être, par 
élimination, la force du nécessaire. 

Nous sommes donc tenu, ici comme ailleurs, de discuter 
l'hypothèse de l'origine ancienne des chansons de geste. 
Comme elle consiste à affirmer l'existence de très anciens 
modèles, d'ailleurs perdus, de nos romans, on ne peut rien 
lui opposer dans l'ordre des faits, mais seulement dans 
l'ordre des vraisemblances. On n'a d'autre recours contre 
elle que le mode de démonstration que les traités de logique 
appellent la réduction à l'impossible. Il consiste à admettre 
par hypothèse la proposition contradictoire à celle qu'on 
veut soi-même démontrer (en l'espèce, à admettre que ces 
très anciens modèles de nos romans ont existé), puis à faire 
voir que cette supposition conduit à des invraisemblances, à 
des contradictions. La réduction à l'impossible est un mode 
de démonstration légitime; par malheur, celui qui s'en sert 
risque de prendre, par là même qu'il s'en sert, et malgré lui, 
à l'égard de ses devanciers, des allures qui ressemblent à 
celles de l'arrogance. C'est de leur point de vue même qu'il 
prétend voir autre chose que ce qu'ils ont vu. Il entre dans 
leur idée, il la fait sienne, mais c'est pour la mieux combattre. 
Il l'expose fidèlement, sans doute, et loyalement, sous son 


jour le plus favorable, et cela est élémentaire, mais c'est pour 
la pousser ensuite jusqu'à un point où ses devanciers ne la 
reconnaissent plus, pour en tirer des conséquences propres 
à la ruiner. Par là, il semble méconnaître ce qu'il doit à 
leurs travaux. Il a beau admirer ces travaux de toute sa 
sincérité, il n'a même plus le moyen de le déclarer: toute 
déclaration de ce genre prendrait l'aspect d'une précaution 
intéressée ou d'une raillerie déguisée. 

Pourtant ici, on n'a pas le choix. Ce n'est point par une 
disposition individuelle de son tempérament intellectuel que 
tel ou tel oppose à la théorie des origines anciennes de 
l'épopée la démonstration par l'impossible. Ce procédé s'im- 
pose et s'imposera à l'avenir à quiconque aura des raisons, 
bonnes ou mauvaises, de la révoquer en doute. Il faut ou 
bien la discuter de cette façon, car il n'y en a pas d'autre, ou 
bien renoncer à la discuter jamais, et par là priver de leur 
meilleure chance de prévaloir des idées que l'on croit plus 

Je recourrai donc, ici comme en tant d'autres cas, à la 
démonstration par l'impossible, ou du moins par l'invraisem- 
blable, car c'est un bon outil de vérité, et le seul dont on 
dispose en un tel sujet. C'est de ce sujet que j'ai traité à 
Johns Hopkins, en présence du Professeur Marshall Elliott; 
dans plusieurs autres Universités américaines, peuplées de 
ses élèves et de ses amis. Il est naturel et juste, en souvenir 
de ces choses, que j'aie songé à en traiter ici. Puissé-je le 
faire en cet esprit de science et de conscience qui est l'esprit 
de ces belles et chères Universités dont je fus l'hôte, qui 
fut l'esprit du Professeur Elliott! 


L'hypothèse est que l'imagination populaire, dès le temps 
de Charles Martel, s'empara de certains événements con- 
temporains ou récents, qu'elle les transforma peu à peu 
par un travail qui dura des siècles et dont les fables des 

88 BÉDIER [8 

chansons de geste marquent le point d'arrivée. Quels sont 
donc ces événements? et quelles sont ces fables? Nous met- 
trons en regard, ici le résumé de ces événements d'après les 
chroniques, là le résumé de ces fables d'après les chansons 
de geste, et nous rechercherons quel est le rapport de ceci 
à cela. 

1. L'histoire. Voici d'abord, telle qu'on la lit partout, 11 
l'histoire, assez compliquée, des débuts de Charles Martel. 

Dans les deux pays d'Austrasie et de Neustrie, Pépin II avait 
laissé subsister par habitude des rois de la dynastie mérovingienne, 
rois insignifiants, bons seulement à signer les diplômes. Le vrai 
souverain, c'était lui: en Neustrie comme en Austrasie, la mairie 
du palais était devenue héréditaire dans sa maison, et il entendait 
qu'après lui les deux fils qu'il avait de sa femme Plectrude, Drogon 
et Grimoald, gouverneraient l'un et l'autre pays. 

Par malheur ses deux fils moururent avant lui, Drogon vers l'an 
708, Grimoald en 714. Quand Pépin mourut à son tour, le 16 
décembre 714, Plectrude voulut exercer la régence, en Neustrie 
comme tutrice de son petit-fils Théodebald, fils de Grimoald, en 
Austrasie comme tutrice de ses petits-fils, Arnoul et Hugue, fils 
légitimes de Drogon. 

Mais les Neustriens se soulevèrent. Ils chassèrent Théodebald, 
choisirent à sa place comme maire du palais l'un des leurs, Ragin- 
fred, et firent alliance, pour attaquer l'Austrasie, avec Radbod, 
duc des Frisons [715]. 

C'est alors que paraît pour la première fois dans l'histoire Charles, 
celui qui devait recevoir le surnom de Martel. C'était un fils 
de Pépin, né d'une concubine, la " noble et belle Alpaïde." Il avait 
alors environ vingt-sept ans, et " il était beau, valeureux, propre 
à la guerre." Quelque temps avant la mort de son père, en des 
circonstances qui ne nous sont pas connues, il avait été emprisonné, 
sur le désir de Plectrude. Il s'échappe de sa prison, 12 tandis que 

11 Voyez les Chronicarum quae dicuntur Fredegarii scholastici con- 
tinuationes (Scriptores rerum merovingicarum, t. il, p. 173-4), le 
Liber historiae Francorum (ibid., p. 325), etc. 

12 " His diebus Carlus dux a praefata femina Plectrude sub custodia 
detentus, Dei auxilio liberatus est " ( Continuateur de Frédégaire, 
l. I. ) . " Carlus his diebus cum captus a Plectrude femina sub custo- 
dia teneretur, auxiliante Domino, vix evasit " (Liber historiae 
Francorum, l. I.) . 


les ennemis envahissaient le pays, s'offre aux Austrasiens inquiets 
d'être gouvernés en ce péril par une vieille femme, et soutient leur 
double guerre contre les Frisons et contre les Neustriens. 

Il éprouve d'abord des revers. Il est battu par les Frisons [716]. 
Les Neustriens traversent 1' Arderme sans obstacle. Ils sont conduits 
par leur maire du palais Raginfred et (leur roi, Dagobert III, étant 
mort sur les entrefaites) par un nouveau roi qu'ils viennent de 
se donner: c'est un descendant incertain de Clovis, qui avait vécu 
jusque-là dans un monastère, sous le nom de Daniel; Raginfred 
a retiré de son cloître ce clerc, qui porte désormais le nom de 
Chilpéric II. Donc Chilpéric et Raginfred marchent contre Cologne, 
où Plectrude s'était enferm'ée. Ils la forcent à leur livrer une 
partie de ses trésors et reprennent le chemin de leur pays. 

Mais Charles les atteint dans les Ardennes. Il leur inflige une 
grande défaite à Amblève, près de Malmédy, et, peu après [21 mars 
717], les vainc une seconde fois à Vincy, dans le pays de Cambrai. 

Il se retourne alors contre Plectrude, prend Cologne. " Plectrude 
lui rendit les trésors de son père Pépin et remit tout en son pouvoir." 

Désormais Charles est maître en Austrasie. En Neustrie, il 
devra combattre encore, en 718, Chilpéric et Raginfred, alliés cette 
fois à Eudon, duc d'Aquitaine. Il les bat près de Soissons, les 
poursuit jusqu'à Orléans. Eudon rentre à grand'peine dans ses 
états, emmenant avec lui Chilpéric IL En 719, Eudon rendit 
Chilpéric à Charles, qui daigna alors le reconnaître pour roi. 

2. Les récits des chansons de geste. Voici maintenant ce 
que racontent les trois chansons de Berte, de Mainet, de 
Basin. Nous les résumons chacune d'après la version la 
plus ancienne; et nous retenons dans ces analyses, si brèves 
soient-elles, tous les traits utiles à la comparaison. 

a. Berte aux grands pieds. Pépin le Bref, pressé par ses barons 
de prendre femme, a demandé en mariage au roi Floire de Hongrie 
sa fille Berte. Elle vient à Paris; mais à peine le roi l'a-t-il 
épousée, une mégère, sa nourrice, abuse de son innocence et de 
sa crédulité. La vieille lui fait croire qu'elle risque la mort la 
nuit de ses noces, et Berte consent qu'une autre prenne sa place 
pour cette nuit. C'est le thème de folk-lore bien connu de la 
" Fiancée substituée." La fille de la vieille, la " serve " Aliste, rem- 
place donc Berte dans le lit nuptial. Elle ressemble merveilleusement 
à la reine; le roi ne s'aperçoit pas de l'échange. Au matin, trompé 
par la serve, il chasse la vraie Berte, et durant des années la serve 

90 BÉDIER [10 

règne sous le nom de sa malheureuse rivale. Cependant (c'est le 
thème de " Geneviève de Brabant," qui se retrouve, lui aussi, 
en tant de littératures populaires), la vraie reine vit inconnue et 
misérable dans la forêt du Mans. Un jour pourtant, l'imposture 
est découverte. La mégère est jetée au bûcher. Sa fille Aliste est 
traitée moins sévèrement, parce que le roi a eu d'elle deux fils, 
nommés l'aîné Rainfroi et l'autre Heldri. On se contente de la 
reléguer dans un monastère, à Montmartre, où elle élèvera ses 
bâtards. Mais qu' est devenue la vraie Berte? Nul ne sait. Les 
jours passent et les mois, tant que le roi la retrouve enfin dans la 
forêt du Mans. Charlemagne naîtra de leur union. 13 

o. Mainet. " Les fils de la serve, Heldri et Rainfroi, ont empoi- 
sonné Pépin et ensuite Berte. Pépin, en mourant, a confié à 
Rainfroi la garde du royaume et l'éducation du jeune Charles, son 
fils. Les " serfs " élèvent l'enfant d'une manière dégradante, le 
relèguent aux cuisines, et comme, malgré tout, il a des partisans 
et qu'il révèle un caractère fier, ils songent à le faire périr à son 
tour. Un fidèle serviteur de Charles, David, feint d'entrer dans 
leurs projets et devient leur confident. Il délibère avec d'autres 
amis de l'enfant et tous se décident à quitter la France, où Charles 
n'est plus en sûreté. 

" La fuite est précipitée par un incident. Dans une fête, Charles 
et ses amis se déguisent en fous. Charles saisit à la cuisine une 
forte broche dans laquelle est passée un paon; et, après avoir bien 
bu et bien mangé, tous montent à la salle. Là, Charles frappe si 
rudement Rainfroi de sa broche qu'il tombe pâmé. On veut le 
saisir; mais les nobles fous sont armés, et parviennent à s'esquiver 

13 Ces traits sont communs pour la plupart à toutes les versions 
et se trouvent dans la plus ancienne, un passage de la Chronique 
saintongeaise (Tote Vistoire de France, edited by F. W. Bourdillon, 
1897, p. 53), composée vers l'an 1225. Mais la Chronique sainton- 
geaise a oublié de dire ce que deviennent la serve Aliste et ses 
enfants, quand la fraude est découverte. J'ai emprunté la donnée 
de sa relégation dans un monastère au joli poème d'Adenet le Roi, 
Li romans de Berte aus granz pies (éd. Paulin Paris, 1836, p. 131; 
cf. l'éd. Scheler, Bruxelles, 1874), qui fut rimé vers 1275. — Les 
versions de Berte aux grands pieds sont nombreuses, et elles ont été 
souvent étudiées. Le livre le plus récent sur la matière est celui 
de M. Joachim Reinhold, Berte aus grans pies, Cracovie, 1909. Je 
regrette de ne le connaître (il est écrit en polonais) que par une 
analyse que l'auteur en a publiée dans le Bulletin de l'Académie 
des sciences de Cracovie, décembre 1908. Les "positions" en sont 
aussi séduisantes que neuves. 


sans être reconnus. Cependant les serfs, Rainfroi et Heldri, soup- 
çonnent le véritable auteur de cette insolence et confient à David 
leur résolution de faire disparaître Charles le plus tôt possible. 
Celui-ci réunit les amis de l'enfant, et dans la nuit tous quittent 
le palais. 

" Charles s'enfuit en Espagne chez le roi sarrasin Galafre ; il se 
met à sa solde sous le nom de Mainet, lui rend les services les plus 
signalés et le délivre surtout d'un terrible ennemi, nommé Brai- 
mant. La fille de Galafre s'éprend de lui, se fait chrétienne, et 
ils se promettent de s'épouser, ce qui a lieu en effet au dénoûment. 

" Après maintes prouesses en Espagne, puis en Italie, Charles 
rentre en France, finit par vaincre les serfs Rainfroi et Heldri; il 
les fait pendre et se fait couronner roi." 15 

g. Basin. L'auteur de ce poème 16 ignore les récits de Berte et 
de Mainet, ou du moins n'en tient nul compte. Mais il emploie, 
lui aussi, comme on va voir, Heldri et Rainfroi, en qualité d'adver- 
saires de Charles et d'usurpateurs. 

A la mort de Pépin, son fils Charles a trente-deux ans. Beaucoup 
de barons conspirent contre sa vie; mais Dieu lui révèle par un 
ange le péril. Il s'enfuit alors chez un chevalier fidèle, Thierry 
d'Ardenne. La nuit, l'ange apparaît à Charles et lui ordonne de 
faire chercher le larron Basin et d'aller voler avec lui: ainsi il pourra 
préserver ses jours." 1T Suit l'histoire pittoresque et bien connue 

15 J'ai emprunté ce résumé à un article de Gaston Paris (Romania, 
t. iv, p. 308; cf. Y Histoire poétique de Charlemagne, p. 230). 
L'auteur du Pseudo-Turpin, vers 1150, connaissait déjà Mainet. 
Mais la rédaction la plus ancienne qui nous soit parvenue date 
seulement de la seconde moitié du Xlle siècle, et nous n'en avons 
que des fragments (Mainet, fragments d'une chanson de geste du 
Xlle siècle publiés par G. Paris, Romania, t. iv, 1875, p. 305). 
Pourtant, grâce à de nombreux textes plus récents, on peut la 
compléter par endroits. Le fond du récit reste d'ailleurs partout 
le même (voyez la belle étude de Gaston Paris, aux pages 230-246 
de l'Histoire poétique ) . Le résumé de G. Paris, transcrit ci-dessus, 
reproduit assurément en substance les récits de la chanson du Xlle 

16 Nous avons perdu le texte français de Basin, qui fut composé 
sans doute au Xlle siècle. Nous le connaissons surtout par le 
résumé qu'en a donné la Karlamagnussaga (Bibliothèque de l'Ecole 
des Chartes, 1864, p. 91-2. Cf. l'Histoire poétique de Charlemagne, 
p. 322). 

11 Karlamagnussaga, l. I. 

92 BÉDIER [12 

de Charles larron de nuit. Qu'il nous suffise de rappeler que l'aven- 
ture se déroule au milieu des Ardennes, où le comte Rainfroi a son 
château. Charles, venu pour voler dans ce château, surprend un 
entretien de Rainfroi et de sa femme. Il apprend ainsi que des 
conjurés doivent le tuer à Aix-la-Chapelle, le jour de son couronne- 
ment: Rainfroi sera empereur, son frère Heldri sera duc. Au 
dénoûment, les traîtres sont mis à mort. Basin, qui a aidé Charles 
à les découvrir, obtient pour sa récompense la veuve de Rainfroi et 
son château de Tongres. 

Comment comparer ces événements et ces fables? Il appa- 
raît vite, et plus on les considère, plus il apparaît qu'un écart 
immense les sépare, un écart prodigieux. Où retrouver dans 
les romans la grande guerre des Neustriens et des Austra- 
siens? Que sont devenus Hugues et Arnoul? Où sont 
Eadbod et ses Frisons? Où est donc Théodebald, le jeune 
maire du palais? où est donc son père Grimoald? Inverse- 
ment, où retrouver, dans quels textes historiques, l'aventure 
de Berte persécutée? Aucune serve de Hongrie a-t-elle 
jamais régné en France? Aucun Pépin a-t-il jamais péri, 
empoisonné par ses bâtards? Aucun Charles a-t-il jamais 
grandi dans les cuisines ? Certes, la légende peut, doit broder 
sur l'histoire; et c'est par là précisément qu'elle n'est pas 
l'histoire; mais ici, il nous faut constater qu'elle ne l'a pas 
seulement transformée; elle en a pris le contre-pied. Par 
un seul trait, toutes deux semblent concorder : 18 le Charles 
Martel historique et le Charlemagne légendaire ont chacun 
une marâtre; mais dans l'histoire, Charles Martel lutte contre 
sa marâtre, Plectrude; dans les romans, Charlemagne est 
débarrassé de la sienne, Aliste, avant même que de naître, 
ou tout enfant. 19 Dans l'histoire, Charles Martel est un 
bâtard qui attaque les héritiers légitimes, et l'usurpateur, 

18 C'est la seule analogie que Paulin Paris eût en effet remarquée, 
en 1842. Voyez la première note de ce mémoire. 

19 Tout enfant, selon quelques versions (voyez Histoire poétique 
de Charlemagne, p. 228-9 ) . Partout la fausse Berte est châtiée par 
Pépin et disparaît de la scène avant que Charles ait atteint l'âge 


c'est lui; dans les romans, Charlemagne est un fils légitime 
qui se défend contre des bâtards usurpateurs, et c'est juste 
le contraire. Dans la masse des fictions de tout genre que 
l'on a contées de Charlemagne, on rencontre, il est vrai, quel- 
ques récits légendaires qui font de lui un bâtard. 20 Mais 
dans ces récits, on ne trouve jamais ni Heldri, ni Kainfroi, 
ni rien qui rappelle les romans de Berte, de Mainel, de Basin, 
et pour cause, ces trois romans étant fondés sur la donnée 
¡récisément inverse; il est trop évident que la légende de la 
bâtardise de Charlemagne et celle de sa lutte contre ses frères 
bâtards sont par définition étrangères l'une à l'autre. 

Et pourtant, ne l'avons-nous pas avoué? Eainfroi est bien 
Eaginfred, Heldri Chilpéric, Charlemagne Charles Martel; 
Pépin III le Bref est bien Pépin II, et par suite Plectrude, sa 
femme, est bien Aliste. 

Si c'est l'imagination populaire qui a opéré ces métamor- 
phoses, nous sommes donc forcés de constater et de croire 
qu'elle s'est appliquée à tout confondre, à tout brouiller. Par 
son œuvre, durant des siècles, ces personnages se seront dé- 
menés comme en un vaudeville effréné, se substituant les uns 
aux autres, s'absorbant les uns les autres. La noble matrone 
Plectrude, transformée en une serve hongroise, s'est vu 
imposer des fils que son sein n'avait point portés : l'un est 
un prince mérovingien, l'autre un maire du palais de Neustrie, 
et ces fils neustriens de la vieille Austrasienne, que la légende 
lui commande de chérir, se trouvent être précisément les 
deux hommes qui, dans la réalité de la vie, vinrent la tour- 
menter à Cologne, lui prendre ses trésors, ses pires ennemis. 

Nous sommes tenus en outre de constater et de croire que 
l'imagination populaire ne s'est travaillée de la sorte qu'au 
début, durant la période où les textes poétiques nous font 
défaut. Au contraire, au Xlle siècle, quand les chansons 

20 Notamment le récit du Flamand Jan Boendale, qui donne une 
servante pour mère à Charlemagne. Voyez l'Histoire poétique, p. 
227; cf. Le Origini dell' epopea francese, p. 205. M. G. Huet publiera 
bientôt une étude sur la légende de la bâtardise de Charlemagne. 

94 BÉDIER [14 

de geste apparaissent, elle est calmée. Nous n'avons entre 
les mains que trois romans d'aventures très simples, où 
quelques thèmes du folk-lore universel (thème de la Fiancée 
substituée, thème de l'habile voleur, etc.) se développent 
chacun selon sa loi, de la façon la plus normale et, si l'on 
peut ainsi dire, la plus classique; en sorte que le plan de 
Mainel, par exemple, ressemble au plan de Bovon de Han- 
stone, ou de Floovant, ou de tel autre " roman d'enfances." 
Dans nos trois chansons de geste, le roi chevelu, son maire 
du palais et leurs consorts, si agités naguère, se tiennent 
désormais tranquilles; ils ne se substituent plus les uns aux 
autres, ils ne s'absorbent plus les uns les autres; ils s'en 
tiennent chacun au rôle que les besoins du conte lui assi- 
gnent; et les versions auront beau se succéder au XlIIe, au 
XlVe, au XVe siècles, partout ils resteront semblables à eux- 
mêmes, Heudri et Eainfroi toujours traîtres, Aliste toujours 
perfide, Berte toujours innocente et persécutée. 

Nous sommes en un mot tenus de constater et de croire 
que les lois qui gouvernent la légende, mais seulement durant 
la période où les textes nous font défaut, sont justement 
les lois qui gouvernent nos esprits quand la raison, dans 
nos rêves par exemple, cesse de les régir. 

Voilà la doctrine qu'il nous faut accepter. G. Paris en 
avait-il prévu tout le détail? Il n'a consacré à la question 
d'Heldri qu'une page rapide; le problème ne lui est apparu, 
ne pouvait lui apparaître, en 1865, que sous ses aspects les 
plus généraux. Il s'est borné à dire, très justement : " la 
poésie a confondu Charles Martel avec Charlemagne;" il l'a 
prouvé, et il a passé. C'est qu'au temps de l'Histoire poétique 
de Charlemagne, le travail qui s'imposait était de noter des 
concordances entre les textes historiques et les textes poétiques. 
Mais les critiques plus récents ont senti qu'il fallait tenir 
compte aussi de leurs divergences, et les expliquer. Puisque 
l'on avait à la fois sous les yeux, ici la biographie vraie de 
Chilpéric et des autres, là leur biographie légendaire, et puis- 
que l'on tenait pour assuré que la poésie avait tiré ceci de cela, 


il convenait de suivre en son détail, depuis son point de départ 
connu jusqu'à son point d'arrivée connu, la marche de 
l'imagination populaire; les concordances et les divergences 
devaient pareillement s'expliquer, par le jeu des lois qui 
gouvernent la légende. M. Pio Eajna, le premier, aperçut 
clairement cette conséquence, et nous lui devons les premiers 
exemples et les premiers modèles de ces comparaisons détail- 
lées entre toutes les données de l'histoire et toutes les données 
de la poésie. Il a donc voulu, par un effort qui n'eut rien 
d'arbitraire, qui était dans la logique du système, expliquer 
ici le travail de la légende et le justifier. 21 

A notre sens, il n'y a pas réussi, parce que nul ne saurait 
y réussir. Ses explications ne font, croyons-nous, que pré- 
ciser les difficultés que nous venons de mettre en relief. 
Mais, puisque le lecteur peut en juger autrement, il convient 
de résumer ici le système de M. Eajna. 22 

On retrouve, dit-il, dans l'histoire de Charles Martel " tous 
les personnages et toutes les aventures " 23 des chansons de 
geste. En effet I o la reine Berte est Alpaïde; 2° la serve 
Aliste est Plectrude; 3° Heldri et Eainfroi sont Grimoald 
et Théodebald, fils et petit-fils de Pépin, auxquels se sont 
substitués par la suite Chilpéric II et Eaginfred. Voici com- 
ment et pourquoi. 

I o Berte est Alpaïde. " Les rôles sont renversés, écrit M. 
Eajna; la concubine de l'histoire est la femme légitime de la 
légende. On aurait grand tort de s'en étonner; il faudrait 
n'avoir nulle pratique de telles matières pour ne pas com- 
prendre que la légende devait s'efforcer d'enlever du front 

21 Voyez ses Origini delV epopea francese, p. 199-222, surtout les 
pages 203 à 216. 

22 Je m'appliquerai à rendre sa pensée d'une façon claire et fidèle; 
ce résumé sera fait d'ailleurs, presque tout entier, de citations. 
Mais, quoi qu'il fasse, à son insu, qui résume déforme; je souhaite 
donc que le lecteur se reporte, de ce sommaire nécessairement in- 
complet, au livre de M. Eajna. 

23 Le origini . . . , p. 203. 

96 BÉDIER [16 

des Carolingiens, une fois qu'ils eurent triomphé, la tache 
d'une origine illégitime." 24 

2 o Aliste est Plectrude. La femme légitime de l'histoire 
est la concubine de la légende. " C'est que la légende a une 
manière à elle de voir les choses, qui ne lui aurait pas permis 
de traiter avec les mêmes égards deux femmes manifestement 
rivales. Dans le parti contraire à celui qu'elle embrasse, il 
ne saurait y avoir que des méchants. Donc, puisqu'elle était 
pour la mère de Charles, il fallait qu'elle fût de la façon la 
plus déclarée contre sa rivale, qui dut devenir une usurpatrice 
perfide et une serve, ce que peut-être avait été, dans la réalité, 
sa rivale Alpaïde." 25 

3° Rainfroi et Heudri sont Grimoald et Théodebald, aux- 
quels se sont substitués Eaginfred et Chilpéric. L'histoire 
opposait à Charles Martel jusqu'à sept adversaires : ses frères 
Drogon et Grimoald, ses neveux Hugues, Arnoul et Théo- 
debald, et encore Chilpéric et Eaginfred. Ils étaient trop. 
La légende, dit M. Eajna, ne fit pas entrer en ligne de 
compte Drogon, mort trop tôt, ni Hugues et Arnoul, qui 
étaient trop jeunes. Eestaient quatre adversaires encore, 
Grimoald, Théodebald, Chilpéric, Eaginfred. " Complica- 
tion trop grande pour la légende, qui a toujours le cœur 
généreux, mais l'intelligence courte. Une simplification de- 
vait donc se produire, réglée, comme il arrive toujours, par la 
loi du plus fort. Or, il ne peut être douteux que les faibles 
fussent ici Grimoald, qui eut le grand tort de mourir avant 
Pépin, et Théodebald, un enfant. . . . Nulle comparaison 
n'était possible entre ces figures et les deux restantes : Chil- 
péric et Eaginfred, le roi et son maire du palais. C'est 
contre eux que Charles Martel dut soutenir une lutte qui 
ne fut ni courte, ni facile ; c'est à eux qu'il ravit le gouverne- 
ment de la France. Grimoald et Théodebald se laissèrent 
donc, par loi de nature, supprimer et absorber." 26 

24 Ibidem, p. 203. 23 Ibid., p. 204. 

20 Ibid., p. 210-211. M. Rajna a marqué d'autres relations encore 


Telles sont les explications de M. Rajna. Plusieurs les 
trouveront peut-être compliquées. Mais s'ils admettent l'hy- 
pothèse qui les a provoquées, à savoir que les chansons de 
Berte, de Mainet et de Basin sont d'origine ancienne et popu- 
laire, ils sont bien tenus de croire que les choses se sont 
passées sensiblement comme le dit M. Eajna, et d'adopter 
toutes ses combinaisons; ou d'en proposer d'autres à la place, 
mais qui seront nécessairement de même nature, et, comment 
qu'on s'y prenne, nul n'en saurait proposer de plus minutieu- 
sement étudiées, ni qui soient fondées sur une meilleure 
connaissance des textes. 

Si pourtant quelques lecteurs estiment que les explications 
de M. Eajna n'ont pas résolu toutes les difficultés marquées 
ci-avant, s'ils jugent que l'hypothèse générale de l'ancienneté 
des chansons de geste les a conduits, en ce cas particulier, à 
des conséquences peu vraisemblables, s'ils subissent ces consé- 
quences plutôt qu'ils ne les acceptent, le moment est venu de 
leur soumettre l'autre hypothèse. 

entre l'histoire et la légende. J'en relève deux, pour être moins 
incomplet. P. 215. " Le Charlemagne légendaire naît, selon tous 
les textes, après les fils de la fausse Berte; Charles Martel était 
réellement plus jeune, et de plusieurs années, que Drogon et Gri- 
moald." — P. 213-4. Heldri a pour prototype Chilpéric, qui était 
roi; Rainfroi a pour prototype Raginfred, qui était simple maire du 
palais. Cependant, les romans, renversant l'ordre officiel des pré- 
séances, font de Rainfroi l'aîné, d'Heldri le cadet. C'est, dit M. 
Rajna, que le Mérovingien n'était qu'un " fantoche royal," tandis 
que le maire du palais était le vrai roi ; " de la sorte, la tradition 
épique rend la condition vraie des choses mieux que les chroniqueurs 
du temps." (Si pourtant il avait pris fantaisie aux auteurs des 
romans de dire qu' Heldri était l'aîné, la théorie n'en eût-elle pas 
tiré pareillement avantage? Ne se serait-elle pas contentée du fait 
que la tradition épique aurait rendu la condition vraie des choses 
aussi bien que les chroniqueurs du temps?) 


98 BÉDIER [18 


L'autre hypothèse, celle des origines récentes des chansons 
de geste, est issue pour une part (il serait facile de le montrer 
et nous comptons le montrer ailleurs), et procède des travaux 
mêmes de G. Paris, de M. Rajna et des savants de leur école. 
Elle s'est précisée depuis une quinzaine d'années, grâce à 
M. Phil.-Aug. Becker surtout, grâce à M. Camille Jullian, 
à M. Baist, à plusieurs autres érudits. Elle a pris aujour- 
d'hui assez de force pour que deux critiques récents, M. Phil.- 
Aug. Becker, 27 et M. Joachim Reinhold, 28 aient traité de 
Berte, de Mainet, de Basin comme de romans imaginés de 
toutes pièces au Xlle siècle, sans nulles racines dans le passé. 

Mais que font-ils de Rainfroi et d'Heldri? Ce ne sont que 
des noms dans nos romans, disent-ils, en quoi ils nous sem- 
blent bien avoir raison. Encore ne pouvons-nous, si gênant 
que soit le fait, empêcher que ces noms se trouvent dans nos 
romans. Comment s'y trouvent-ils? 

Pour répondre, et si nous voulons soutenir que 1' " élément 
historique " de ces romans n'est pas un résidu de récits 
épiques ou de poèmes du Ville siècle, il faut que notre 
explication satisfasse à trois conditions difficiles. Il nous 
faut montrer que nos romanciers ont pu tenir leurs renseigne- 
ments d'hommes qui avaient encore de leur temps, au Xlle 
siècle, des raisons de parler de Charles Martel, de Chilpéric, 
de Raginfred. Il nous faut de plus montrer — et ceci est plus 
malaisé — que nos romanciers ont pu être induits en erreur 
par ces renseignements, au point de confondre Charles Martel 
avec Charlemagne. Il nous faut enfin rendre compte du fait 
qu'ils emploient la bonne forme populaire Heldri. 

Le point de départ de notre recherche a été cette remarque 

27 Die nationale Heldensage, 1907, p. 64-5. 
2S Berte ans grans pies, Cracovie, 1909. 


que la chanson de Basin est assez bien localisée: Charles 
s'enfuit d'Aix-la-Chapelle dans l'Ardenne, les aventures prin- 
cipales se déroulent soit dans la forêt d'Ardenne, soit dans la 
résidence de Kainfroi, à Tongres. Or, c'est dans l'Ardenne, 
à 4-0 kilomètres environ de Tongres et au même diocèse, que 
Charles Martel a d'abord combattu Eaginfred et Chilpéric: 
à Amblève, sur la rivière du même nom. Si l'on cherche sur 
la carte le monastère le plus voisin de ce champ de bataille, 
on trouve, sur la même rivière, l'abbaye bénédictine de Sta- 
velot, 29 fondée vers 650, par saint Eemacle, qui fut évêque 
de Tongres. 30 Un homme qui va de Tongres à Stavelot 
traverse le champ de bataille d'Amblève. 

L'abbaye de Stavelot, unie à celle de Malmédy, 31 fut durant 
des siècles puissante et fréquentée. On montre encore 
aujourd'hui, dans l'église paroissiale de Stavelot, la châsse 
de saint Remacle, qui est un chef-d'œuvre d'orfèvrerie, 32 et 
le roman de Renaut de Montauban 33 nous rappelle, entre tant 
d'autres textes, que les reliques de ce saint attiraient jadis des 
visiteurs nombreux. En ce monastère, qui fut un foyer 
hagiographique, on lisait les vieilles chroniques. Toutes les 
vieilles chroniques racontent la bataille d'Amblève : les 
moines n'avaient-ils pas songé à lier cet événement, qui s'était 
passé chez eux, à l'histoire légendaire de leur maison? 

Nous avons donc cherché parmi les documents de l'abbaye 
et trouvé le texte que voici. 

29 Stavelot (Belgique), à 36 km. au S.-E. de Liège. Voyez Arsène 
de Noue, Etudes historiques sur l'ancien pays de Stavelot et de 
Malmédy, Liège, 1848. 

30 Voyez la Vita s. Remarti, au t. v, p. 88, des Scriptores rerum 
mer ovin gicarum, le Répertoire d'Ulysse Chevalier, etc. 

31 Malmédy ( Prusse ) , à 8 km. de Stavelot. On voit encore des 
restes importants des édifices anciens, tant à Stavelot qu'à Malmédy. 

32 Elle a été décrite par Martène, Voyage littéraire . . . , t. il, p. 
154, et reproduite par A. de la Noue dans les Annales de Vacadémie 
d'archéologie de Belgique, Anvers, 1866, p. 451. 

33 Ed. Michelant, p. 53; v. 1979 de l'éd. F. Castets. Cf. Garin le 
Lorrain, éd. P. Paris, t. I, p. 170. 

100 BÉDIER [20 

C'est l'histoire de l'un des successeurs de saint Remacle, 
le moine Agilolf, qui fut abbé de Malmédy et de Stavelot, 
puis archevêque de Cologne. On écrivit à Malmédy., sans 
doute vers la fin du Xle siècle/ 4 un récit édifiant de sa mort, 
la Passio Agilolfi. 3 * C'est une composition toute fabuleuse; 
pour le marquer, il suffit d'indiquer quelle fait mourir le 
saint en 716, alors qu'il ne devint en réalité abbé de Stavelot 
que vers 750. Il mourut martyr, selon son hagiographe; et 
quels furent les auteurs de son martyre? Raginfred et 

Quand mourut le roi Pépin, son fils Charles lui succéda au 
royaume des Francs. Il était beau et fort; il n'avait pas encore 
atteint l'âge d'homme, et pourtant il était déjà glorieux par ses 
victoires. Le saint archevêque de Cologne, Agilolf, était son plus cher 
conseiller. Or, tandis que Charles, par droit de naissance, tenait le 
sceptre royal, la France s'anima contre lui d'une haine violente. 
Elle éleva au trône Daniel, ancien clerc, sous le nom de Eelpricus. 
Elle l'envoya contre le pieux roi, ainsi que l'usurpateur Raginfridus, 
espérant que tous deux lui enlèveraient à la fois la vie et le 
royaume. 36 

Les deux tyranni pénètrent dans l'Ardenne, ravagent cette con- 
trée, pillent Cologne; ils dépouillent les églises, et rentrent dans 
l'Ardenne. Ils choisissent Amblève, sur la rivière de ce nom, pour 
s'y partager leur butin. Leur armée est composée de Francs, 
d'Aquitains, et même de païens de diverses nations. 

34 Entre 1089 et 1099; voir les raisons que donnent les Bollan- 
distes à l'appui de cette date. En tout cas, la Passio est postérieure 
à la translation des reliques de saint Agilolf à Cologne, laquelle 
fut faite par l'archevêque Annon après 1075. 

35 Publiée dans les Acta sanctorum des Bollandistes, t. n de juillet, 
p. 721. 

36 "Igitur apud Francorum gentem, Pipino rege vita exempto, Caro- 
lus, filius ejus, decorus ac robustus, successit in regno. Qui licet 
puerili teneretur aevo, gloriosus tamen habebatur in triumpho. Hic 
Consilio sapienti sanctissimi archipraesulis utebatur Agilolfi. . . . 
In hune, regalia sceptra jure tenentem, Francia malignis odiis ex- 
arsit, Danielemque quondam clericum, mutato nomine Helpricum 
vocans, in regno sublimavit, quern cum tyranno Raginfrido contra 
pium principem direxit, et, ut eum simul vita et regno privarent, 
invidia stimulante, suggessit." 


A ces nouvelles, le roi Charles (clarissimus rex Carolus) va 
d'abord à Cologne, consoler son ami Agilolf. Il le charge d'aller 
en ambassade vers Helpricus et Raginfridus : il les sommera de vider 
sa terre. 

Agilolf se met en route, fait d'abord visite a ses frères de Mal- 
médy, 37 qu'il retrouve avec joie, et gagne de là le camp ennemi. 
A la vue d'un prêtre de Dieu, sans même lui laisser le temps de 
faire son message, des soldats se précipitent sur lui, le percent de 
coups. C'est à Amblève qu'il reçoit ainsi le martyre. Son âme 
s'échappe, sous la forme d'une colombe blanche comme neige. 

Les moines de l'abbaye recueillent son corps et le transportent 
dans leur église de Saint-Laurent. Sur sa tombe se produisent des 
miracles que l'hagiographe raconte. Mais le plus beau est celui-ci. 

Amblève est un lieu dans le pagus d'Ardenne, à deux milles du 
monastère de Malmédy. Il est entouré de forêts épaisses et de 
montagnes propres à y bâtir des châteaux-forts. C'est pourquoi 
Daniel et Raginffidus, dont les satellites avaient livré â la mort le 
saint prélat, y avaient établi leur camp. Ils méditaient de plonger 
leur épée dans le cœur de Charles; ils ignoraient qu'en ce lieu-là 
même, ils subiraient de grandes pertes de leurs troupes. 3S Ils avaient 
comme alliés Eudon, duc des Aquitains, et Rabod, duc des Frisons. 

Le roi Charles a appris la mort de son ami Agilolf. Pour le 
venger il se hâte d'entrer en campagne. Il s'avance dans l'Ardenne, 
cachant sa marche, non point au bruit des trompettes, mais en 
silence. Il poste ses troupes en embuscade aux défilés des bois qui 
entourent Amblève, et dans les bourgades environnantes. Puis il va 
dans l'église prier sur la tombe d' Agilolf, — et le lecteur devine que 
Charles vengera le martyr aux lieux mêmes où il est tombé. 

En un lieu nommé Rona, Charles rencontre une vieille matrone, 
très sage, venue d' Amblève, qui lui indique un stratagème : " Rassem- 
ble, lui dit-elle, toutes tes troupes sur la lisière de la forêt. Que 
chaque soldat prenne une branche feuillue, assez grande pour couvrir 
le cheval et le cavalier, et que, portant ces armes nouvelles, ils 
s'avancent sous tes ordres, au point du jour, en silence et au pas, 

37 C'est au printemps (la date du martyre d' Agilolf étant marquée 
au 1er avril) : 

Tempus erat, gelidus canis cum montibus humor 
Liquitur, et Zephiro putris se glebo resolvit; 
Frondebant silvae, ridebant floribus herbae. . . 

On retrouve ainsi, parsemés dans la prose de l'hagiographe, un 
certain nombre de vers. 

38 " Ignari se passuros magnum de suis in eodem loco dispendium." 

102 BÉDIER [22 

vers le camp des ennemis." On fait ainsi: l'armée se concentre en 
un lieu qui s'appelle encore Ad Catervas. 39 

Reginfridus et Hilpericus voient au matin marcher contre eux la 
forêt. Ils s'épouvantent: la forêt les poursuit. Leur défaite. 

Eien n'indique que l'hagiographe ait connu des chansons 
de geste quelconques. Par contre, il a exploité les chroniques 
latines, et le fait est trop clair pour qu'on s'arrête à le dé- 
montrer. 40 Notre auteur a lu des livres, mais il a regardé 
aussi, il a écouté. Il a parcouru la route, " longue de deux 
milles," 41 qui va de son abbaye au champ de bataille ; il a 
noté les aspects du paysage; il a vu le bois, au lieu nommé 
Ad Catervas, où Charles avait massé ses troupes. Peut-être 
a-t-il entendu raconter sur place l'histoire, attachée à tant 
d'autres champs de bataille, de la forêt qui marche. 42 Peut- 
être, longtemps avant qu'il n'ait écrit, montrait-on déjà près 
d'Amblève l'endroit où Agilolf avait reçu le martyre. Ou 

39 " Novis armis munitae catervae, catervatim non diviso cuneo 
coeperunt incedere, et idcirco nomen illius loci dicitur Ad Catervas 
usque hodie." 

40 En voici pourtant deux indices. L'auteur dit qu' Eudon d'Aqui- 
taine était alors allié de Chilpéric: c'est pour avoir lu un peu vite 
les chroniques, qui disent que cette alliance se forma un peu plus 
tard, mais qui toutes en parlent à la même page où elles racontent 
la bataille d'Amblève. — On lit dans la Passio Agilolfi cette phrase: 
ignari se passuros magnum de suis in eodem loco dispendium; la 
même expression, appliquée à la même bataille d'Amblève, se re- 
trouve dans le Liber historiae (p. 325) : in loco quidem Ambiava 
maximum . . . perpessi sunt dispendium, et en plusieurs autres 

41 Le village d'Amblève est à près de vingt kilomètres de Stavelot; 
mais sans doute localisait-on alors la bataille plus près de l'abbaye. 
Il faudrait pouvoir identifier le lieu dit Ad Catervas. Le lieu appelé 
Rona par la Passio doit être Roenne, à 2 km. au N. de Stavelot, sur 
la rive droite de l'Amblève. 

42 Ce thème populaire, illustre depuis Shakespeare, se trouve déjà 
dans le Liber historiae, c. 36, appliqué à la bataille de Braisne, près 
Soissons, où Frédégonde défit les Austrasiens (cf. Kurth, Histoire 
poétique des Mérovingiens, 1893, p. 396-402). 


bien a-t-il inventé le premier les principaux traits de son 
récit ? On ne sait, et il n'importe guère. Bien avant lui on 
a dû conter, on doit conter encore aujourd'hui en ces régions 
de telles histoires, celles-là même, ou d'autres : de tout temps 
il s'est trouvé des clercs à Stavelot pour lire les vieilles an- 
nales et pour parler autour d'eux de la bataille de Charles et 
de Rainfroi. • 

Un lecteur de la Passio sancii Agilolfi, lecteur du Xlle 
siècle ou du XXe, qu'y apprend-il des événements du temps 
de Charles et de Raginfred? 

I o II n'y apprend rien de Plectrude, de Grimoald, 
d' Hugues, d'Arnoul, ni de Théodebald, ni d'Alpaïde, ni des 
faits compliqués qui mirent aux prises Austrasiens et Xeus- 
triens. Ces faits et ces personnages, l'hagiographe les con- 
naissait pourtant, puisque toutes les chroniques en font men- 
tion à la même page, et qu'il avait lu une chronique. Mais, 
comme il ne s'y intéressait pas pour eux-mêmes, comme seule 
la gloire d'Agilolf et de son abbaye l'intéressaient, il a simpli- 
fié. Remarquons que pas un des personnages ni des faits par 
lui éliminés ne se rencontre non plus dans nos trois chansons 
de geste; par contre, il n'y a pas un trait historique de nos 
trois chansons qui ne se trouve aussi dans la Passio sancii 

2° Le lecteur de la Passio y voit que le vainqueur d' Am- 
ble ve est nommé, d'un bout à l'autre du texte, Carolus tout 
court. 43 Il est roi de France, ce que n'était pas Charles 
Martel. Il est dit fils de Pépin; on n'indique pas de quel 
Pépin. A moins que le lecteur ne connaisse déjà par quelque 

43 Pourtant, on lit une fois Carolus Martellus dans le titre du 
chapitre il (Miracula Sancii ope patrata. Victoria Caroli Martelli) ; 
mais il se peut que ce titre ait été ajouté par les Bollandistes. 
Si même il a été écrit par le vieil hagiographe, notre remarque 
subsiste, à condition qu'on l'applique à quelqu'un qui aura non 
pas lu lui-même le texte de la Passio, mais qui aura entendu 
raconter la mort du saint. 

104 BÉDIER [24 

autre source la bataille d'Amblève, comment reconnaîtrait-il 
Charles Martel? S'il comprend que ce clarissinius rex Caro- 
las, filius Pipini est Charlemagne, n'est-ce pas une erreur 
presque nécessaire? C'est précisément la même erreur qui 
se retrouve dans nos trois chansons de geste. Quand il nous 
arrive, pour nous être renseignés dans un livre peu clair, 
d'attribuer à Louis VII de France tel acte de Louis VI, cet 
accident ne s'appelle pas un " transfert épique," mais, plus 
simplement, une méprise. 

3° Le lecteur voit clans la Passio que deux personnages 
s'élèvent contre Charles : l'un, Helpricus, s'affuble du titre 
de roi; mais l'autre, qu'est-il par rapport à ce faux-roi? Le 
lecteur ne saurait le deviner; mais, voyant que les deux 
" ty ranni " sont toujours mis sur un même plan (Helpricus 
cum iij ranno Raginfrido), il est obligé de comprendre que 
ce sont deux compagnons, deux égaux. Il en est ainsi dans 
nos trois chansons de geste; elles précisent seulement, et de 
ces égaux elles font des frères. 

4° La Passio sancii Agilolfi appelle Fun de ces " tyranni " 
Helpricus, et par là perd toute portée la remarque que le 
Heldri des chansons de geste est un mot de bonne formation 
populaire. L'hagiographe a employé la forme Helpricus, 
soit qu'il l'ait trouvée dans sa source latine, 44 soit qu'il l'ait 
reçue des gens du pays, lesquels devaient raconter sur la 
bataille d'Amblève et sur saint Agilolf de plus anciens récits 
de clercs. En tout cas, ce n'est pas Chilpericus que le 
lecteur trouve dans la Passio, c'est Helpricus; il le traduit en 
français Helpri: comment le traduirait-il, sinon Helpri? 
Ainsi feront nos chansons de geste. 

44 Je trouve Helpericus en bien des textes (dans les Annales Melli- 
censes. Pertz, 88., t. ix, p. 494; dans le Herimanni Augiensis 
Chronica m, 88., t. Y, p. 97, dans une Genealogia regum Francorum, 
88., t, xiii, p. 247, etc.). Les Genealogia? comitum Bulonensium 
(88., t, ix, p. 300) donnent Hilpericus et Hildricus. Je trouve 
Hilphriciis et la variante Helprichus dans les Annales Laurissenses 
minores (88., t. I, p. 114). 


En résumé, un lecteur de la Passio, au XXe siècle ou au 
Xlle, que peut-il retenir de sa lecture? Nécessairement- 
ceci : qu'Helpri et Rainfroi furent deux traîtres qui conspirè- 
rent contre Charles, roi de France, peu après la mort de son 
père Pépin, pour le tuer et pour usurper son trône. C'est 
tout l'élément historique du roman de Basin: dans Basin, 
Heldri et Eainfroi sont deux frères qui conspirent contre 
Charles (Charlemagne), roi de France, peu après la mort 
de son père Pépin, pour le tuer et pour usurper son trône. 
Les traîtres sont devenus des frères, et Helpri Heldri, 4 -" 5 là 
est toute la différence. 

Rappelons-nous que la chanson de Basin et la légende de 
saint Agilolf sont localisées toutes deux dans FArdenne, et 
concluons que tout se passe comme si Fauteur de Basin avait 
lu la Passio sancii Agilolfi. Nous ne disons pas qu'il l'ait 
lue ; nous disons : tout se passe comme si ... Il a pu faire 
le pèlerinage de saint Remacle à Stavelot; il a pu connaître 
quelqu'un qui l'avait fait. Un sermon entendu le jour de la 
fête du saint, une anecdote contée par un clerc de Malmédy ont 
pu lui transmettre la teneur de la Passio. Admettons même 
que les Bollandistes aient fixé à tort à la fin du Xle siècle 
la date de la Passio, qu'elle ait été rédigée plus tard. De 
tout temps on a dû parler de Charles, d'Helpri, de Rainfroi 
à Stavelot, auprès de la tombe d' Agilolf, 46 aux environs 
d'Amblève, quand on montrait aux voyageurs le champ de 
bataille et le lieu consacré par le sang du martyr; on a dû 
en parler sur cette route que hantaient — nous le savons par 
un texte souvent cité — les cantores joculares.* 7 

45 L'accident qui a fait dire Heldri pour Helpri est-il le fait d'un 
sacristain de Stavelot, ou d'un guide d'Amblève, ou d'un chanteur 
de geste, etc. ? On ne peut le savoir, et il n'importe pas de le savoir. 

46 Et même après que ses reliques eurent été transférées à Cologne. 

47 Voyez Léon Gautier, Les épopées françaises, t. n, p. 123. C'est 
un passage des Miracula s. Remarti (Acta sanctorum, t. I de 
septembre, p. 722, d'après les Gesta episcoporum Leodiensium, œuvre 
du Xle siècle). On y raconte comment un cantor ¿ocularis, tandis 
que l'on transfère de Stavelot à Liège le corps de saint Remacle, 

106 BÉDIER [26 

L'auteur de Basin aura donc le premier emprunté aux 
légendes de Stavelot les noms d'Heldri et de Eainfroi et la 
donnée de leur complot contre Charlemagne. Quand plus 
tard d'autres poètes, ceux de Mainet et de Berte, voulurent 
composer sur Charlemagne des " poèmes d'enfances/' quand 
ils ramassèrent à cet effet dans le folk-lore les thèmes de la 
mère persécutée, de la fiancée substituée, du jeune prince en 
lutte contre ses frères bâtards, etc., ils eurent besoin de deux 
noms de traîtres : le roman de Basin les leur fournit. 

Au diocèse de Tongres et Liège, et dans l'Ardenne, et tout 
le long de la Meuse, on recueille à pleines mains des " tradi- 
tions " sur les premiers Carolingiens. A l'abbaye d'Andenne, 
sur la Meuse, on montrait au XlVe siècle la tombe de Berte 
aux grands pieds. On y vénérait sainte Begge ( f 694), 
mère de Pépin II, et c'est sur son autel que le fabuleux 
Maugis d' Aigrement, décidé à finir ses jours dans un ermi- 
tage, vint déposer en ex-voto son épée et son écu. 48 Selon 
Adenet le Eoi, le duc Nayme est le fondateur de Namur. 49 
A Herstal, où naquit, dit-on, Pépin II, on conserve sur lui 
diverses traditions. A Jupille, près de Liège, où il mourut, 
on montre de nos jours une fontaine, dite " fontaine de la 
Belle Alpaïde." 50 — C'est quelque savant de village, dira-t-on, 
qui l'a baptisée ainsi, par une fantaisie toute récente. — Sans 
doute; mais le mécanisne de ces légendes, des anciennes 
comme des récentes, est le même. Un récit historique part 
toujours d'un livre. Il ne se maintient dans la tradition 

est réveillé la nuit par une vision; suivi de son sodalis, il court 
rejoindre les veilleurs du corps saint, " ac, ignarus quid caneret, 
fortuitu cœpit de sancto percurrere plura canendo. Ac nostros 
digestim referendo casus tristes sua quodammodo solabatur cantilena, 
choris concinentibus. Rex autem desuper auscultans per fenestram 
. . . intendebat sollicitus . . ." 

4S Dans la version du manuscrit 764 de la Bibliothèque nationale 
(voyez La Chanson des Quatre fils Aymon, éd. F. Castets, 1909, p. 

49 Berte aux grands pieds, éd. Scheler, v. 233 et suiv. ; éd. P. Paris, 
p. 14. 

50 Voyez la Belgique monumentale, 1845, t. il, p. 149. 


orale qu'à l'état de légende locale, c'est à dire s'il se trouve 
en tel lieu des hommes qui aient intérêt ou plaisir à le répéter. 
Ces légendes locales se déforment et s'oublieraient; mais le 
" savant " est toujours là pour les rappeler, maître d'école 
ou curé, le clerc qui a lu dans ses livres. " Tradition popu- 
laire ? " ou " tradition savante ? " Cette distinction n'a guère 
de sens, appliquée aux légendes locales. Le récit du clerc 
revient au clerc enrichi de traits de folk-lore, retourne au 
" peuple " chargé de nouveaux traits livresques, se renouvelle ; 
les clers donnent et reçoivent, le peuple reçoit et donne. 

Dans le cas d'Heldri et de Eainfroi, comme partout 
ailleurs, pour expliquer l'élément historique d'une chanson 
de geste, il n'y a qu'à la " localiser." 

Nous croyons exacte notre explication de l'élément histo- 
rique de Basin, de Mainet, de Berte par les légendes de Sta- 
velot. Mais peut-être, après tout, les légendes de Stavelot 
n'y sont-elles pour rien. On peut contester notre explication ; 
il nous suffit qu'on ne puisse pas raisonnablement en contester 
le principe. Pour rendre inutile l'hypothèse, invraisemblable 
en soi, que l'élément historique de ces romans du Xlle siècle 
proviendrait de poèmes ou de récits du Ville, il suffit qu'au 
Xlle siècle, au temps des chansons de geste, on ait pu en un 
lieu quelconque, comme à Stavelot, avoir des raisons actuelles 
de parler encore de Charles Martel et de Eainfroi : et de tels 
lieux ne manquent pas. 51 Si ce n'est pas à Stavelot que 
s'est formée, au Xlle siècle, notre légende, c'est donc 
ailleurs, au Xlle siècle; ailleurs, c'est à dire dans un autre 
Stavelot. Pour comprendre les romans du Xlle siècle, il ne 
suffit pas d'interroger les livres du Ville; il faut plutôt 
regarder la vie du Xlle siècle. 

51 On trouve des récits légendaires sur Charles Martel, Raginfred, 
etc., dans les Gesta abbatum Fontanellensium ( Saint- Wandrille, 
texte du Ville siècle, 88., t. n, p. 277, 279, 281, 287);— dans les 
Monumenta Epternacensia (Echternach, en Luxembourg, texte du 
Xlle siècle; ici, Raginfred épouse Plectrude! 88., t. xxin, p. 59-62) ; 
— dans les Aegidii Aureavallensis Gesta episcoporum Leodiensium 
(texte du XHIe siècle, copié d'ailleurs ici de Sigebert de Gembloux, 
88., t. xxv, p. 47) ;— etc. 




H. A. Todd 

The following Old French poem occupies the last nine 
folios of a manuscript now in the possession of Mr. J. Pier- 
pont Morgan of New York. This manuscript, which once 
formed part of the iishburnham-Barrois Collection and 
appeared in Lord Ashburnham's early catalogue, printed 
about 1860, as No. 170, was bought from Quaritch by Mr. 
John Edward Kerr, Jr., of New York, in 1903. A cata- 
logue of Mr. Kerr's collections, previous to their sale to Mr. 
Morgan, was privately printed in 1903, under the title 
" Catalogue of Manuscripts, Early Printed Books and General 
Works on Mediaeval Romance Literature." In this catalogue 
the manuscript in question is listed, on page 8, as No. 7 : 
" Eommant Dou Lis. Cest la premiere preface dou rom- 
mant dou lis." 1 Folios 81-105, contain a versified rendering 
of the Apocalypse, which was edited by the present writer in 
the Publications of the Modem Language Association, vol. 
XVIII (1903), pp. 535-577. 

In the brief catalogue description of the ms. we read: 
" Folio 81 : Ci commence Lapocalipse. Folio 114 : Explicit 
ex parte Petri Mathei Clerici. MS. of the end of the Four- 
teenth Century, written on 114 leaves of pure vellum." This 
explicit, however, of folio 114, marks the end, not of the 
poem of the Apocalypse, but of an entirely different pro- 

1 The text of the Rommant dou Lis, folios 1-80, with introduction, 
etc., will appear in due time as a Columbia doctor's dissertation. 

1] 109 

110 TODD [2 

duction, beginning, without rubric or other indication of 
title, at folio 105, — a poem of 481 verses the presence of 
which in the ms. has, so far as I am aware, never before been 
pointed out. 

In view of the more or less nondescript, tho deeply re- 
ligious, nature of the poem and the absence of any title in 
the unique manuscript containing it, the supposition is not 
a violent one that the author himself — who was possibly the 
otherwise unknown Petrus Matheus of the explicit — com- 
mitted his modest waif to the tender care of posterity without 
even tacking to it the useful appendage of a name. It is 
perhaps with an embarrassment somewhat similar to his, 
that I have ventured, for the convenience of the future 
bibliographer rather than for the enlightenment of the 
present reader, to designate this not uninteresting bit of 
literary flotsam as, in some sense at least, an Invocation to 
Saint Mary Magdalen. 

In the case of so brief a text it will be unnecessary to 
provide either an analysis or a summary. Suffice it to 
premise that the effusion partakes of the nature at once of 
an invocation, a narrative, a reflection and a rhapsody, and, 
so far as subject-matter is concerned, keeps strictly within 
the outlines of the Gospel story of the Magdalen, suggesting 
not at all the extraneous legends of the Saint as they may be 
found adequately set forth by Adolf Schmidt in his study 
of Guillaume le clerc de Normandie, insbesondere seine Mag- 
dalenenlegende (Romanische Studien, tv, 493-543). 

The linguistic and formal features of the poem may like- 
wise, it appears to me, be fittingly dismissed without elaborate 
discussion. The composition is framed, thruout, in 8- 
syllabled 8-line strophes, riming ab abbaia. The rectification 
of an occasional accidental deviation from this order serves, 
of itself, here and there, to restore the true reading of the 
text. Few peculiarities of the rime are to be noted: con- 
vaincre, 383, rimes with maistre, paistre, naitre; as a coun- 
terpart to this, fraîche, riming with estache, decraiche, tache, 


is spelled f minche. The recognition of a prevalent tendency 
to hiatus leads the editor to retain the reading of the MS. 
(v. 14 and similarly in a few cases elsewhere) : 

Et la beauté de innocence, 

where it would otherwise be so natural to emend: de 

As to vocabulary, it may be pointed out that refugere 
(= refuge), which is not found in the dictionaries, occurs 
twice (225, 395) ; minte, 288, is a rare example of re- 
dempta; oviaux, 118 (= ovellos from ovis; cf. Mod. Fr. 
ouaille for oueille = ovicula) is not in Godefroy (ms. has 
aviaux, which might have been retained) ; in partie, 252, I 
would see a form induced by the exigencies of the rime, and 
so also in demeur for demeure, 138; embiaudonner, which 
occurs twice (42, 310), each time with cuer as its object, 
and which I find nowhere recorded, looks to me like a French 
original of the Eng. embolden. It might well come from 
Germ, bald, with a suffix influenced by ordonner, which was 
itself influenced by donner. 

As to difficulties in the constitution or comprehension of 
the text, I am at sea in regard to verse 261 : 

D'un autre se puet pent farder. 

Would it be possible to read pentfarder(?) and to under- 
stand : ' He can be weighed in the balance with another/ i. e., 
6 He is superior to all others ? ? Or could se pentf arder 
d'un autre refer to hanging as a substitute on the cross? 

Perhaps the most striking peculiarity of the text is the 
curious form Ret, which introduces verses 41 and 169 : 

Et en besant fist aourer 

Ret panner des crins de sa teste. 

Son esperit fit a fremir 

Ret ploure con douz et benigne. 

112 TODD [4 

In each of these cases I believe that the conjunction et 
has been reinforced by carrying over the final r from the 
end of the preceding verse; but I have never seen the 
phenomenon before and should be glad if other examples 
could be adduced, or another explanation offered. 

Il est bien temps que je m'avise, 
Tant com je voy durer le jour, 
Que je ne soie point reprise, 
Quant venrai devant mon seignour 
5 Pour rendre conte de m'amour, 
En quel chose je l'ay assise — 
Ou monde ou ou creatour, 
Itant com (me) dure ma franchise. 

He ! mes cuers, ou est la plaisance, 

10 La grace et li bel atour 

Que je receu en ma nessance, 
Ou baptoime de mon Sauvour? 
Bien doubt que n'ay perdu la flour 
Et la beauté de innocence. 

15 Hey ! Jhesus, par ta grant douçour, 
Donne moy leu de penitence. 

Hey ! qu'ai je fait, lasse chaitive, 
Quant je en haut regarder n'ose? 

20 J'ay troublé la fontaine vive, 
Ce lix, celle flour, celle rose, 
C'est la virge tres glorieuse, 
Marie, en cui tout biens arrive, 
Dont descent la loy amourouse 

25 Et flourist orisons votive. 

4 seigneur. 12 sauour. 25 flour. 


Lasse, seurhausse ma purtey, 
Et fusse de toute part saine ! 
Je pense avoir ma grant seurtey 
En la virge de grace pleine. 
30 Or est qu'aour la Magdaleine : 
Doy metre mon corps en durtey, 
S'avoir vuis fiance certaine 
De venir a bienahurtey. 

Molt vous ama li Eoys celeste, 
35 Dame, bel vous vot colorer, 

Quant de l'estat si deshonneste 

Vous daigna si bel restorer; 

Quant a ses piez vous fist plorer 

Lay ou Symons li faisoit feste, 
40 Et en besant fist aourer 

Ret panner des crins de sa teste. 

Amours qui les cuers embiaudonne 
Vous fist plorer entre délices, 
Et fist d'avoir et de personne 
45 Faire a Dieu plaisans sacrefices. 
De quant qu'aviez servi es vices, 
Aussint cum l'euvangile sonne, 
Jhesus devient dous et propices, 
Et touz vos péchiez vous pardonne. 

50 Li pharisees qui point n'use 

Dou douz temps qui se moustre en place, 

Le maistre d'ignorance accuse, 

Et la disciple d'ardiace. 

Lours li amanz qui vous embrace, 

28 ma] sa. 

30 MS. has lines 30-33 in the order 32, 33, 30, 31. aour] anoye. 

42 Amours] Meurs. 

114 TODD [6 

55 Es cuy laz estiez ja recluse, 
A Symon, veant en sa face, 
Par raison vive vous excuse. 

Hey, amours, qui tout desfaut trueve 

Et le bel mettez en apert, 
60 Vostre amanz maiz riens ne reprue ve 

En vous, quar, amours, le dessert 

Tout li avez ensemble offert; 

Et cui a diz et dit et evre, 

Vostre cuers li est tout ouvert, 
65 Mais riens que fine amour n'i trueve. 

Quant Jhesus vient en un chastel, 
Marthe a mengier l'a recehu, 
Marie boit a cler ruissel 
De la doctrine qu'a leu; 
70 Vostre aise n'a Marthe pieu, 
Contre vous giete son apel : 
" Jhesus, que avez esleü, 
Entre .ij. sentez le plus bel." 

Marthe en suit la vie active, 
75 Grant cuisantium ha trepriz, 

Jhesu reçoit a son convive; 

Son cuer est frains, son cuer est pris. 

Jhesus dareain l'a repris : 

" Quant avez la contemplative 
80 De .ij. estât [s] avez le pris, 

La flour et la prorogative." 

Jhesus li maistres tient s'escole, 
Jhesus declaire ses doctrines, 
Jesus donne en ses paroles ■ 

63 cui] cur. 77 est] net — est] e'. 

78 dareain] da'me. 


85 Es armes plaisant médecines. 

Diex, cum sunt aise ses béguines ! 
Mais vostre engin plus aut s'en vole, 
Et tout s'enlace es loiz divines; 
Don Marthe se plaint et querole. 

90 Hey ! qui porroit son cuer retraire 

De ce qu'il soloit tant amer; 

Pour remirer tel exemplaire 

Ou il n'a mais riens que blâmer, 

Bien se pourroit sage clamer; 
95 Quar cils qui vuet au monde plaire, 

Ne l'en demeure que l'amer, 

Et la douçour ne dure gaire. 

Quant Marthe est plus angoisseuse 

Pleine de labour et d'esfroy, 
100 Marie est plus délicieuse, 

En son cuer n'avra ja desroy; 

Marthe ministre en bonne foy, 

Vous estes d'amer li lesteuse; 

Marthe vous reguarde sus soy, 
105 Si en est .i. pou envieuse. 

Dont estes vous Rachel la belle, 
Cui Jacob de fin cuer amoit, 
Don Lye maine grant querele, 
Car trop souvent Pacompaignoit. 
110 Jacob fait ce que faire doit, 
De li son cuer point ne rápele, 
Amours le mist en tel destroit, 
Quant premier vit la pastourele. 

Jacob sert, Jacob se debrise, 
115 Trop est apert, trop est igniaux; 

99 Plaine. 115 igneaux. 

116 TODD [8 

Jacob ne doubte vent ne bise, 
Ou desert garde les aigniaux, 
Lay maine .vij. anz ses oviaux 
Et si grant terme riens ne prise, 
120 Comme fins amanz et loiaux 

Et tout jours prest a tout servise. 

Amours a pris si grant puissance, 
Demostre [e] en son grant esfort, 
Quant a vostre grant desplaisance 
125 Vostre frère rece (li) ut la mort; 
Jhesus voit que li ladres dort, 
Combien qu'il ne soit en presence; 
At ant pour votre grant confort 
Va relever vostre esperance. 

130 Jhesus, qui les faiz sait porter 

De ces que il tient en s'acorde, 

Vers vous vient pour vous conforter 

Si con Te vangile recorde. 

Marthe cele mort li recorde 
135 Pour lui a pitié enhorter 

Qu'en sa douce miséricorde 

Vaille si grant duel supporter. 

Marthe con saige s'en demeur, 

Vous va nuncier ceste venue; 
140 Tantost com oez vostre suer, 

Lay n'ot nule resne tenue; 

De joie si cuers se remue, 

Vers lui s'en vole vostre cuer; 

Vers lui adreciez vostre veue, 
145 De duel demore par desfuer. 

118 aviaux. 124 desplaisance] desplicasanee. 

128 Atant] Tant. 130 sait] suit. 138 demeure. 

141 resne] reine, ms. has vv. 142, 143 in inverted order. 


Vostre cuer a lui se presente 
Et de lermes li fait presant. 
La mort du ladre li guermente, 
Et mostre car s'il fu[s]t present 
150 De la mort fu[s]t du tout esent. 
Li maistre la disciple tente: 
Savoir vuet de li s'elle sent 
Ce que la foy vuet que Fon sente. 

Du mort dit qu'il relèvera, 
155 Pour vostre consolation; 

Vous respondez que ce sera 

A celle congregation 

De la grant resurrection. 

Jhesus dit que il moustrera 
160 Plus tost sa domination, 

Quar tantost le suscitera. 

He ! douceur tres aute et tres digne ! 
Que dirai je quant je remir 
Si grant amour en si grant signe? 
165 Quar quant Jhesus vous vit gemir, 
Quant la coulour vous vit blêmir, 
Si com PEscripture designe, 
Son esperit fit a fremir 
Eet ploure con douz et benigne. 

170 Au sépulcre vient senz delay, 

Et vous avec autres plusours. 

Quant Jhesus vit, criait " hay ! hay ! " 

Quant aperçoit lermes et plours, 

Lours le poignent a cuer amours, 
175 Et estre laide vien cay 

161 tanstost. ; 

175 Perhaps: Et dit au ladre, "Venez çay! " : 

118 TODD [10 

Eevit li mors de .iiij. jours, 
Et tout vaut met [re] en esmay. 

Dame ! or n'est il pas merveille 

Se vostre cuers est tout en feu, 
180 Et de toute riens se despoille, 

Se autre riens en lay n'a leu. 

Pour miex entendre en son gieu, 

Ensic com amours le conseille, 

S'en Jhesus metez vostre veu 
185 De tel loy qu'il n'est la pareille. 

Des or mais vostre corps n'a cure 
Se por lui soffre tout meschiez, 
Car fine amour qui tout endure 
Vous a si aligiez vos griez, 
190 De la longue vous a fait briez, 

Que nul temps mais riens ne vous dure; 
Jhesu oignez devers le chiez 
En signe de la sepulture. 

He! l'alabastre, l'oignement, 

195 Qui ont son odour respandu ! 
Judas fait ce faux jugement, 
Qu'il ne deust estre despandu, 
Ainz vausist miex qu'il fust vendu, 
(Pour) faire as povres aligement; 

200 Jhesus li a raison rendu, 

Jhesus vos fait a sacrement. 

Assez tost aprez ce vient l'eure 
Que Jhesus dut de nous partir. 
En celle heure que tout ciel ploure, 

186 Des] Do and defect in ms. 

197 despondu. 

204 ciel ploure] eul plome. 


205 Quant ce cuers dut de duel partir, 
Quant mourir veistez ce mártir, 
Ne mais avec vos ne demoure, 
Quant ses joies va departir, 
A ces attendent lai dessore. 

210 Qui lors veit vostre contenir, 

Qui peust penser cele destrece? 

Quant veistez vostre ami (s) tenir, 

Quant veistes cele bêle face, 

Ou luisoit la plante de grace, 
215 Si grant laidure sostenir, 

Quant li veistes de haute tace 

La tel humilitey venir. 

He ! mors tres dure et tres amere, 

Con vos fait sont defremitous, 
220 Pour quoy metez en tel misere 

Les cuers douz et afïectuous? 

Seront il si presumptuoux 

Qu'il n'amoient la virge mere? 

Vos ruis sont si impetuoux 
225 Qu'envers vous nul n'a refugere. 

Voz dit, voz loiz, et voz coustumes 
Dont mortelz en leur liens enlacent, 
De vos escris, de vos volumes, 
Ne roys ne contez ne se facent 
230 Pour veoir, pour oïr qu'il en facent; 
Car si legieres sont vos plumes 
Que quant plus amant se solacent 
Lors respondez vos amartumes. 

205 dot. 210 vostre] vos. 

215 sostenir] sesteint. 

219 defremitous] defemnousf?] 

224 ruis] ruissiaux. 

120 TODD [12 

A l'eure que Jhesus trespasse, 
235 Qu'il vient a point de son termine, 

De touz péchiez ensañe masse, 

Pour vous a Dieu le pere fine; 

Les mains vers la mere decline, 

S'escrie a une voiz casse : 
240 " Mon cuer traperce vostre espine, 

Leal fil, que (et) fera la lasse?" 

Et que fera mais la dolente 
Qui voit son fil en tel destroit? 
" Onques doulour ne fut si grante 
245 Comme cele que mon fil voit; 

Certes mes cuers mourir en doit, 
Si que trestout li corps le sante; 
Eaison est que l'arbre se choit 
A cui on a copé son ante. 

250 Cil glaives tres outrecuidié 

Et de toutes loiz repreuvé, 

Mon corps et m'arme as partie; 

Lors as [tu] ton coup esprouvé, 

Car au corps mon fil l'as trouvé, 
255 Ou m'amour l'avoit adrecié; 

Car leax cuers et aprové 

Si ha son propre corps laissié. 

He ! Absalon, mon fil tres biaux, 
Formez et fait pour regarder, 
260 Maiz ne fut si bel jouvenciaux; 
D'un autre se puet pent farder. 
He ! mort, que pues [tu] tant tarder ? 
Tu n'es ne juste ne leaux; 

236 ensañe] ensañe. 238 Les mains] Li mas. 

242 Et] se. 245 fil] vil. 


Se moy de tes cops vues garder, 
265 Mes cuers laisse ja tes ruiseaux. 

Se vous qui passez par la voie 
Pour Dieu vuilliez a moy entendre, 
Se tel doulour est con la moie 
Bien en poez jugement rendre, 
270 Quant mon filz voy en la croiz pendre, 
Quant mon corps de soz li s'ombroie, 
Quant [je] li voy le costé fendre, 
Dont m'amour par[t] tout et ma joie. 

He ! ma joie et ma liace, 
275 Et ma douçour, ou vous querray? 
Ma bêle clere douce face, 
Et m'amour, mais ne vous verray, 
Certes pour vostre amour morrai; 
Se la mort me vuet faire grace, 
280 Nul délai de li ne vourrai, 

Nul demuer vuil qu'ele me face. 

Ma joie, qu'es tu devenue? 
Ma grant doulour et ma complainte, 
M'amour douce, m'amour esleue, 
285 M'amour florie, m'amour sainte, 
Ma lumiere qui n'ies estainte, 
Lasse, se tu ne m'es rendue, 
Tu qui m'as si chierement rainte, 
M'arme en mourant te salue. 

290 He ! arbre de haute valour, 
Et qui tout pooir as dompté, 

265 laisse] lait. 

271 MS. inverts vv. 271, 272. 

272 li] le. 272 costé] costre. 274. Se. 
291 dompté] doubte. 

122 TODD [14 

En tes rains monstre sa chalour 
Qui amour ha seur[e] monté, 
Qui a respandu sa bonté; 
295 Nul ne porte si bêle flour, 
La loy devant t'avoit hanté, 
Ma[i]s tes fruit te met a honnour. 

He ! arbrez, sus touz honorez, 

Eiches et passans tout trésors, 
300 Du sane mon fil escolorez, 

En toy pent son precieus corps; 

En toy son arme rendi hors; 

Et son corps, c'est sens demorez, 

Pour tant de grant pris es doulours, 
305 E[s]t de toutes genz adorez. 

He ! tres précieuse coronne, 
Don son chief est environné, 
Bien a amour cele personne 
A grant honte abandonné; 
310 Son cuer a si embiaudonné 
Et en ses laz si sou prissone, 
Qu'as ennemis ha pardonné, 
Et en souffrant nul moût ne sonne. 

Tout jours en mon cuer sera frai (n) che 

315 La douçour de l'aignel tres douz, 
Quant un sot lié a l'estache 
Ou (touz) destrainchiez fut et derouz, 
Ou tout sueffre sanz nul courouz 
Ou l'en son visaige decraiche, 

320 Et lait et ydeux devient touz 

Li mirours qui estoit sanz tache. 

293 seurmonte. 307 Don] Dun. 

309 grant] prent. 320 devient] deniont. 


Ja ne cherra du cuer Marie 
Ce bevraige si tres amer 
Que donna en sa felonnie 
325 La vigne digne de blamer; 
La plante, cui souloit amer, 
Cui souvent apeloit s'amie, 
Quant li oït sa foy clamer, 
Pour plus tost terminer sa vie. 

330 Ainsi la mere se tormente 

Et la disciple d'autre part, 

Li une son fil mort gremente, 

L'autre son maistre qu'ele pert; 

A nul fuer de li ne se part, 
335 A garder le corps met smentente, 

Ardie est comme leupart 

Qui atout glaive se presente. 

Aprez Joseph d'Arimathie 

Donna Jhesu la sepulture; 
340 Marie au corps tient compaignie, 

De li bien garder ha la cure, 

Qu'aucuns ne puet par aventure 

Au cors moustrer sa gelousie, 

Fors tant que pour quérir l'ointure 
345 Du sepucre s'est départie. 

Marie atout l'oignement 
Tantost revient de la cité, 
Le tomblel curieusement 
En remirant ha visité; 
350 Le corps trueve resuscité, 

Si pert trestout contenement, 

328 foy] soy. 

343 Au cors moustrer] A cors moustre. 

124 TODD [16 

Car ele croit en vérité 
Con Tait emblé celeement. 

Marie de duel se detort, 
355 Li œil du cuer li est troublé; 

Sus li est cheiie la sort 

Qui sa doulour li ha doublé; 

De ces deux mechiez Ta moblé, 

De la tel perde et (de) la tel mort, 
360 L'un mal a l'autre acomblé, 

Si s'en doulouse sanz deport. 

Je croi que nus ne porroit faindre 
Le grant mechié qu'ele se tient; 
Tout duel dou sien vuet estre maindre, 
365 Quant de son maistre li souvient; 
De son corps ne set qu'il devient, 
Que cuidoit qu'il li dut recraindre; 
Fors est li maux qu'a cuer li tient, 
Si n'a confort que de soy plaindre. 

370 Nule chose mais ne li plait, 

De toute rien son cuer estrainge; 
De touz plaisirs son cuer retrait, 
Et tout soûlas en doulour chainge; 
Ne li plaist confort de nul ainge, 

375 Leur veoir n'est de grant esploit, 
Si n'a cure de leur losainge, 
De leur paroles, de leur plait. 

Ne vuet penser mais qu'en son maistre, 
A cui ses cuers ha tant musé, 
380 Qui doucement la souloit paistre, 
La cui doctrine a tant usé; 
Pour cui tout autre [a] refusé 

360 a coble. 


Ne nul autre ne vuet convaintre, 
Son cuer de touz s'est excusé, 
385 1ST autre amour en li ne vuet naître. 

He ! Jhesus, tres douz, tres pitoux, 
Pour quoy de lui vous esloigniés? 
Pour quoy de li vous celez voux, 
Qui vous lava jadiz le [s] piez? 
390 A cui par devant sez péchiez 
Fustes jadiz si gracieus, 
Et en l'arbre qu'estoit séchiez 
Plantastes fruit si precioux. 

He ! tree douz, tres misericors, 
395 Arbre de tres haut refugere, 

Jhesus, ja estes vous recors, 

Quant li suscistastes son frère. 

Pour cui estoit de cuer amere, 

L'arme rendîtes en son corps, 
400 Dont la feistes de joie clere, 

Et tout son duel meistes hors. 

Tres veritable Jhesucrist, 
He ! cuers devout, mais que ferunt ? 
Vous meistes en vostre escript 
405 Que cil a mein vous trouverunt 
Qui a vous querré veillerunt; 
Se ceste avez en despit, 
Vos promesses queles serunt, 
Quant de vous querré n'a respit? 

410 Ne fut elle jadiz loee, 

Quant de vous fist electium? 
[Dont ele fut at'tenee 
Par vostre confirmatium 

393 fuit. 

126 TODD [18 

De seüre possession 
415 Que ja ne seroit ostee 
Pour qouy dont visium 
Set a vostre amant tant oelee] 

Quant Jhesus oït ce reclain, 

Quant se voit priz a occhaisum, 
420 Le tier jour par devers le main, 

Quant d'esjoïr est la saisum, 

Jhesus saut hors de sa maisum, 

Et du tumbel se met a plain, 

Marie le met a raison, 
425 Cuide qu'il soit un ortolain. 

Or dit elle, " mon ami chier, 
Di moy, si te vient a plaisir, 
Ou avez mis ce que [je] quier? 
Ou doit le corps Jhesu gésir? 
430 Acomplissez mon grant désir : 

Ou quel voie est, ou quel sentier? 

Tantost le me verrez saisir, 

Ne quier que nul me vuielle aidier." 

Dame, cum estes viguereuse, 
435 Qui voulez porter si grant faiz; 

Trop estes vous délicieuse, 

De ceci vous tenés en paiz: 

Tel charge ne portastes mais, 

Amour vous a fait courageuse; 
440 Fors est vostre cuer et cortois, 

A cui nule rien n'est peneuse. 

Lors Jhesus, la salut de l'ame, 
La cui amour ne puet mentir, 
Qui devant vous apeloit fame, 

431 sentier] seurter. 


445 Quant il vous fist a repentir, 

Sa douçour vous fist a sentir (e) : 
" Marie/' vous dit adone, " dame " ; 
Vostre cuer fist (tout) a retentir, 
A monter en la haute game. 

450 En Paute game estiez aucie : 

Quant le vousistez embracier, 

De joie fustes si remplie 

Que [ne] peiistes cler jugier; 

Lors vous dit, " Voy, ne me touchier, 
455 Avec mon pere ne suis mie; 

A tous mes frères va nuncier 

Quar je suis relevez a vie/ 7 

Dame, a vostre amant chiere, 

Marie, de cuer bien apris, 
460 Vostre oil premier vit la lumiere, 

Qui d'amour estoit plus empris, 

Qui a lui querré s'estoit pris; 

En venant estes la premiere, 

Aprez la mere avez le priz, 
465 Qui soûliez estre la derrière. 

Dame, pleine de sapience, 
Qui ces granz prachours ensaigniez, 
Il vous donna cele excellence 
Qui vous fist plorer a ses piez, 
470 Qui vous relaicha vos péchiez, 
Et vous donna [son] indulgence; 
Pour la joie que vous prachiez 
Vous ont prachours en reverence. 

450 autre. 452 fustes] fustus. 

456 A tous mes] A mes mes. 

467 grant. 468 II] el. 

128 TODD [20 

Douce dame, cui tout prechours 
475 Reguardent leur vie blâmant, 

Marie, a cui ont recours 

Li cuers failliz, li faux amant 

A cuer plus dur que nul aimant, 

De ma vie vien en secours : 
480 Mon cuer, ma vie, mon corps commant 

A vos douces fines amours. 

Explicit ex parte Petri Mathei Clerici 

475 Reguardant. 

479 ma vie vien] marine venez. 

480 ma vie] marine. 



Douglas L. Buffum 

Although references to the songs interspersed by Gerbert 
de Montreuil in his Roman de la Violette 1 frequently appear, 
no such general study of these songs has been published, as, 
for example, was made by Gaston Paris for the songs of 
the Roman de la Rose (Guillaume de Dole), 2 the first roman 
d'aventure in which other poems — almost invariably lyrics — 
are included. 

It will be remembered that the Roman de la Violette 
belongs to the well known and widely circulated cycle de la 
gageure; this cycle was studied by Gaston Paris and the 
results of his investigations were published in the Romania 3 
by his friend and successor, M. Bédier. In this article 
Paris has given about forty versions of the story, omitting 
such late derivatives as Weber's opera, Euryanthe, or Dumas' 
play, Mademoiselle de Belle-Isle. 4 The cycle is so wide- 
spread in the European literatures that it extends from 
Greece to Norway and from England to Roumania. The 
greatest writers who have made use of the story are Boc- 
caccio, in his Decameron, n, 9, and Shakespeare, in Cymb eline. 
The bare outline of the plot common to the various versions 
of the cycle is familiar: A man pledges his faith in the 
virtue of a woman and wagers with an acquaintance that 

1 Edited by Francisque Michel, Paris, 1834. 

2 Edited by Servois for the Société des anciens textes français, 
1893. The article of Paris on the Chansons covers pp. lxxxix-cxxi. 

3 xxxii, 481-551. 

4 Cf., besides Paris' article, already mentioned, Michel's edition 
of the Violette, p. xxxv, and Servois' edition of the Rose, p. xvi. 

1] 129 


130 BUFFUM [2 

the woman will remain faithful. The acquaintance becomes 
a rival and attempts to win the wager. Because of cer- 
tain deceitful appearances the woman seems to have yielded, 
but finally her innocence is established. Paris finds that 
the variants of the story fall under three heads : first, there 
is good faith on the part of the seducer, but he is deceived 
by substitution into believing that he has really won the 
wager; second, the seducer is treacherous, he is unable to 
win the wager and falsely accuses the woman, who herself 
lays bare the falsity of the accusation; third, the seducer is 
treacherous, but his treachery is revealed by another than 
the woman herself. It is under the third head that the 
Violette falls. 

The Violette was probably written between 1225 and 
1230 ; 5 the two chief sources for the plot of the poem are 
the Comte de Poitiers and the Roman de la Rose (Guil- 
laume de Dole) ; in addition the latter has suggested the 
idea of a flower on the body of the girl and also the insertion 
of songs in the text. 

In an edition of the Violette which I hope soon to pub- 
lish, I shall go into a more detailed discussion of the de- 
velopment of the story, but in this article I shall consider 
only the songs introduced by the author into his poem. 

The Roman de la Rose, the oldest of the French romans 
d'aventure to intersperse songs in the text, was written 
according to Servois in 1200, a date accepted by Gaston Paris 
as practically exact. 6 The new style of scattering graceful 
lyrics through a roman d'aventure evidently gained great 
favor among the refined classes and many authors adopted it. 
The first of these, and one who was very successful in his 
use of the songs, was Gerbert de Montreuil, author of the 
Violette, and this poem follows the Rose more closely in the 
treatment of the lvrics than do later imitations such as 

5 See Ro. xxxn, 539 ff. 

6 See introduction to Servois' edition of the Rose. 


Cléomadès, Méliacin, Le Châtelain de Couci, Les Tournois de 
Chauvenci, Le Lai d' Avistóte, etc. 7 In these works, however, 
only strophes of chansons couvtoises and refrains are intro- 

In the Violette there are in all 44 songs in about 6660 8 
lines, in the Rose there are 48 songs given in 5641 lines. 
In the Rose songs of more than one strophe are frequent. 
This never occurs in the Violette, which, in this respect, 

v foreshadows the tendency of the later imitators to favor 
brief citations. Even refrains of one line are at times found 
in the Violette, whereas the Rose offers no example of so 
brief a refrain. In both romans the songs are introduced 
irregularly; for example, the first ten songs of the Violette 
occur within a space of about two hundred lines, while in 
another part of the poem 9 no song appears for almost eight 
hundred lines. The longest citation in the Violette consists 
of twenty-five lines from an epic of the southern cycle. 10 
This is the only citation which is not lyric. 

In both romans three Provençal songs occur. In the Rose 
one is given in the original, while the other two are trans- 
lated into the langue d'oïl. In the Violette two songs are 

n given in Provençal, in the place of one of which, however, one 
manuscript offers a translation of another Provençal song. 
In the Rose the names of the authors of these songs are fre- 
quently given; in the Violette, except in the case of the 

v single epic citation, no source is mentioned. Perhaps at the 
period in which the Violette was composed the aristocratic 
audiences, for which these romans were written, were so 

7 For a list of poems introducing these songs, see Jeanroy, Origines 
de la poésie lyrique en France, 2e édition, Paris, 1904, p. 116; 
and Paris, Rose, p. xc. 

5 Owing to the errors in Michel's edition the exact number of lines 
cannot be given until the critical text is established. 

9 Lines 2348-3123. 

™ Aliscans ; see list of songs below. 


familiar with the songs cited that it seemed unnecessary to 
name their authors. 

An enumeration of the songs in the Violette may be of 
some interest, for they enable us to see what kind of lyric 
verse appealed most strongly to the refined classes of the 
courts of Louis VIII and Louis IX, and they also afford 
a glimpse, from one more angle, of the ideas and manners of 
this medieval society. 

In order to show more clearly the author's way of inter- 
mingling lyrics, I give the context of the roman as I mention 
the songs. 

The impecunious, but by no means ignorant, author (we 
learn from the close of the poem that his name is Gyrbers de 
Mosteruel; that is, Gerbert de Montreuil) begins, after a 
brief eulogy of savoir over avoir, by promising us that we 
shall have a conte biel et delitable. 11 He goes on to say that 
he does not intend to tell a tale of King Arthur and the 
Eound Table, but that nevertheless his story is biaus et gens, 
and the music is well adapted to the matter. He then names 
his poem the Roman de la Violette, a title suggested by the 
Roman de la Rose, and tells us that it contains mainte cour- 

11 All citations are given as far as possible from MS. fr. 1553 
(formerly 7595) of the Bibliothèque Nationale. This is the best 
of the four extant manuscripts and shows a Picard coloring, thus 
being nearer the original dialect of the author. For the original 
dialect, see Seelheim, Die Mundart des altfrz. Veilchenromans, Leip- 
zig, 1903, and Buffum, Le Roman de la Violette, A Study of the 
Manuscripts and the Original Dialect, Baltimore, 1904. Of the four 
extant manuscripts two are preserved in the Bibliothèque Nationale, 
fr. 1553 (formerly 7595) and fr. 1374 (formerly 7498); one is in 
the Imperial Library of St. Petersburg, MS. fr. F. r. xiv, No. 3; 
and one is in the private library of Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan. 
(Professor P. Meyer's statement in Ro. xxxiv, 89-90, that these 
latter manuscripts are in the Morgan collection of the New York 
Public Library and in the Hermitage Library of St. Petersburg 
should be corrected.) All quotations are made from photographs of 
the manuscripts. 


toise chançonnete. He dedicates the poem to the Countess 
of Ponthieu, which enables us to arrive at the approximate 
date of composition. 12 The scene is laid at the court of a 
certain young King Louis of France, a king who loved 
brave knights, fair ladies and good company in general. 
One Easter (the proverbial connection of Spring with this 
early lyric poetry of the aristocratic type should be noticed), 
a sumptuous court is held at Pont-de-P Arche. After dinner 
the King summons all his courtiers to carol. My Lady 
Nicole, Countess of Besançon, and sister of the Bishop of 
Lincoln, begins by singing this line : 

Ales bielement, que d'amer me duel ( 105 ) . 13 

Then the Duchess of Burgundy takes her lover by the hand 
and sings : 

Ales cointement et seri, se vous m'ames (111). 14 
Next the sister of the Count of Blois sings : 

Ja ne mi marierai 

Mais loiaument l'amerai (120). 

The fair-haired, light-hearted sister of the Count de Saint- 
Pol sings en karolant: 

Se j'aine par amors, joie nen ai grant, 
Mal gre en aient mesdisant (127). 

12 See article by Gaston Paris in Ro. xxxn, 538. 

13 The numbering of the lines corresponds to Michel's edition; see 
also note 11. 

"Michel, in his edition of the Violette, omits the following line 
before this song: Sans felonnie et sans orguel, which supplies the 
the rime for the song. In every case (except the song introduced 
at line 6130, and even here one of the manuscripts offers a riming 
line) the line immediately preceding the song rimes with the first 
or second line of the song. 

134 BUFFUM [6 

Then the beautiful Demoiselle de Couci sings this chanson 

Seulete vois a mon ami; 
S'ai grant paor (134). 

The dark-haired Alienor, Châtelaine de Nior,, sings a chan- 

Aprendes a valoir, maris, 

Ou vous m'avez perdue (141). 

And then a lady of Normandy, who was supposed to be in 
love with the King, sings: 

Ja ne lairai pour mon mari ne die 

Que mes amis n'ait un resgart de moi (152). 

After these songs the dancers take their positions three by 
three (two by two, according to one manuscript), and the 
King rises and converses with them as he passes. 

The seven brief songs just cited are chansons à carole. 
The name itself is applied to one of these songs a few lines 
further on in the text. 15 The carol has been frequently de- 
scribed. 16 It was a medieval dance in which the dancers 
formed a circle or a chain, by joining hands, and accom- 
panied their movements by such songs as have just been 
given, one dancer singing the song itself and the others join- 
ing in the chorus, which is the refrain. In the Rose a vielle 
seems to have been used, but it is not mentioned in the 
Violette (except in the case of the epic quotation). It 
will be noticed at once that these songs or refrains, by 
their themes of love and by their conventional contempt 

15 Line 201. 

16 Cf. Servois' edition of the Rose, p. xevi ; also Bédier's article, 
"Les fêtes de mai," in the Revue des Deux Mondes, May, 1896, 
p. 155. 


for marriage and for the husband, offer the character- 
istics of certain songs of the poésie courtoise, such for 
example as the maieroles. Though probably originating 
in the May festivals, these refrains have been so colored 
by the ideas of the upper classes that their popular 
origin can scarcely be seen. 17 Now the question of source 
naturally arises. The first refrain {Ales oielement, que 
d'amer me duel) was probably borrowed from some song, 
though I have been unable to identify it. Jeanroy 18 cites 
from the Chatelaine de Saint Gilles: 

En regardant m'ont si vair oeil 
Donez les maus dont je me deuil, 

and other refrains might be cited to show the frequency of 
the final phrase of our refrain. The phrases Ales oielement 
and Ales cointement (second carol) are particularly appro- 
priate to a song accompanying a dance and frequently occur 
in various forms. Jeanroy 19 cites from the Châtelaine de 
Saint-Gilles : 

Espringuiez et balez liement 

Vos qui amés par amors leaument. 

The third refrain (Je ne mi marierai, etc.) is given in a 

manuscript of the Bibliothèque Nationale. 20 The song is 

there given, as stated by Michel, 21 with the following 
addition : 

Ne vous mariez mie, tenez vous ensi 

17 For Bédier's modification of Gaston Paris' theory that the lyric 
poetry of the twelfth century originated in the dance songs accom- 
panying the May festivals, see RDM., May, 1896, I. c. 

18 Origines de la poésie lyrique en France, p. 107. 

19 L. c., p. 395. 

20 Fr. 844 (earlier 7222), fol. 209, v°, col. 2, line 7. 

21 Edition of the Violette, p. 9. 

136 BUFFUM [8 

The fourth song (Se faine par amors, etc.) has been pub- 
lished by Bartsch 22 who ascribes it to Mesire Pieres de 
Corbie. It is the refrain of the second stanza and runs: 

se j'aim par amours, 

joie en ai mout grant, 

mal gre en aient li mesdisant. 

In his variants, given on page 388, Bartsch does not mention 
this version of the Violette. The fifth refrain (Seulete vois 
a mon ami, etc.) slightly resembles a modern couplet cited 
by Jeanroy, 23 which runs : 

Je n'irai plus seulette à la fontaine, 
J'ai trop grand peur du berger Collinet. 

The Cour de Paradis (line 327) gives this refrain as: 
Renvoisiement i vois a mon ami. 

The sixth refrain (Aprendes a valoir, maris, etc.) is given 
by Bartsch 24 as the refrain to the first stanza of an anony- 
mous romance of six stanzas. As cited by Bartsch, it runs: 

aprennez a valoir, amis: 
li jalous m'a perdue. 

The seventh refrain, which suggests a chanson de mal mariée 
(Ja ne lairai pour mon mari ne die, etc.), is given anony- 
mously by Bartsch 25 as follows : 

Jai ne lairai por mon mari ne die: 

li miens amins jeut a neut aveuckes moi. 

Je li dis bien, ainz qu'il m'eust plevie, 
c'il me batoit ne faisoit vilonie, 

22 Rom. und Past., p. 279. 23 L. c, p. 200. 

24 Rom. und Past., p. 38. M Rom. und Past., p. 21. 


il seroit cous et si lou comparoit. 
jai ne lairai por mon marit ne die: 
li miens amins jeut a neut avecque moi. 

It will be noticed that this song, as is the case with the 
other carols that have been identified, forms the refrain of 
v a longer piece. In the present instance we have the old 
form of the rondel or triolet, which was built np around 
these refrains. Besides changing the content of the refrain, 
the author of the Violette has made over the second line, 
which contains eleven syllables in the version given by 
Bartsch, into ten syllables to correspond with the first line. 
Bartsch calls attention to the fact that the lines occur in 
Renard le Nouvel. 26 This version follows that given by 

The identification of five of these seven chansons à carole 
and the resemblances of the others to the refrains cited by 
Jeanroy indicate that Gerbert de Montreuil probably did not 
compose any of them, but cited them either from memory, 
as Gaston Paris thinks was the case with the author of the 
Rose, 27 or from an earlier manuscript. Gerbert's references 
show that he was familiar with Old French literature, and 
since these lyrics do not seem to have been collected into 
manuscripts until later, we may conclude that the author of 
the Violette probably quoted from memory, a conclusion that 
would find support in his frequent alterations of the original. 
In the case, however, of a song cited in both the Violette and 
the Rose 28 the version of the Violette is nearer the original 
than that of the Rose, which is one of the sources of the 
Violette. It is difficult in this case to believe that the 
author had no other copy of the song before him. 

After the dancing just described, the King speaks with a 

26 Line 6942. 

27 See his article on the Chansons in Servois' edition of the Rose. 

28 See, below, the song by Gace Brulé ending with line 1321 of the 

138 BUFFÜM [10 

handsome vassal, Gérart de Nevers, who is to be the hero of 
the poem. At the request of one of the ladies, Gérart sings 
with vois serie, without mentioning the author, a stanza of 
eight lines, which proves to be by Gace Brulé, a typically 
courtois poet. The song is : 

Quant biele dame et fine amors men prie, 

Encor ferai chanchon cointe et jolie, 

Ne ja ne quier k'envieus mot en die, 

car onques nés amai, 

ne ja nés amerai; 

et ki les asime, bien sai 

K'il fait que fols 

K'envieus sont molt plain de felonnie (197). 

Huet, in his edition of Gace Brulé, 29 gives this as the first 
stanza of one of the pièces douteuses. As edited by Huet 
the stanza reads : 

Quant bone dame et fine Amor me prie, 
Encor ferai chançon cointe et joie; 
Ne ja ne quier envíos mot en die, 

Car onques nés amai 

Ne ja nés amerai, 

Et quis aime bien sai 

Qu'il fet cruel folie, 
Qu'envios sont de laide vilenie. 

As soon as Gérart has finished this stanza of Gace Brulé, 
Love, who is always on the alert, bids him sing this chan- 
çonnete à carole: 

J'ai amours fait a mon gre 
Miels en valra ma vie ( 203 ) . 

This carol, unlike the first seven of the Violette, seems to 
have been sung without an accompanying dance. Michel 30 

29 P. 123 (Société des anciens textes français, 1902, p. 123); Huet 
has noted some of the variants of this version of the Violette. 

30 Violette, p. 13. 


has found a somewhat similar couplet in the Châtelaine de 

J'ai amoretes à mon gré, 
S'en sui plus joliete assez. 

Kaynaud and Lavoix 31 have a refrain : 

J'ai une amourete a mon gré 
Qui me tient jolive. 

A little later Gérart again sings: 

Dont n'ai-jou droit ki m'envoise, 
Quant la plus biele amie ai? (236). 

This couplet is given by Bartsch 32 as the refrain in the fifth 
and last stanza of a romance by Maistre Willaumes li Viniers. 
In his variants/ 3 however, Bartsch makes no mention of this 
song of the Violette. 

In the songs cited so far by the Violette the influence of 
court poetry, the poetry with the aristocratic coloring which 
came from the South, is very marked. In the next song the 
author of the Violette goes a step further and introduces a 
vson poitevin, by which he means a song in a dialect of the 
langue d'oc (one of the manuscripts uses son provençal 
instead of son poitevin). The song of the langue d'oc which 
the author inserted in this place has given the copyists great 
trouble. The poorer of the two Parisian manuscripts s4 
attempts to reproduce the southern dialect as follows: 

En iqual tans que never d'ausir 

Bois et pras, vergiers et flors espanausir, 

31 Recueil de motets français des xiie et xine siècles, Paris, 1881. 
vol. i, No. xxx ; ef. also No. cxxxi. 
82 Rom. und Past., p. 83. 

33 Rom. und Past., p. 353. 

34 B. N., fr. 1374. 

140 BUFFUM [12 

Et voi bien que j'ois enance sans faillir 

Plus que cors n'en puet pensar, ne bouce dir, 

Et sui jausie d'un riceau 

Qui plus me place a ma partie ( 327 ) . 

The New York (Morgan) manuscript is nearest this one, as 
we see: 

En ce doux temps que ie voy renverdir 

Bois, prez, vergiers et fleurs espenir, 

Et voy que joie en aise sans faillir 

Par fine amours en doulx espoir duire, 

Plus que en peult nul cuer ne bouche dire, 

Et suis du cuer du ventre ravie 

D'un doulx raissiau qui plaist a ma partie. 

The better of the two Parisian manuscripts 35 has inserted 
a French translation of an entirely different poem. The 
original proves to be by Bernard de Ventadour. As given 
by the manuscript it runs: 

Il n'est anuis ne faillemens, 
Ne vilonnie, che m'est vis, 
Fors d'omme ki se fait devins 
D'autrui amour, ne connissans, 
Envieus! que vous en avanche 
De moi faire anui ne pesanche? 
Chascuns se velt de son mestier garir: 
Moi confondes, et vous n'en voi joïr. 

The original version is given by Eaynouard 36 as follows : 

Non es enuegz ni falhimens 
Ni vilania, so m'es vis, 
Mais d'orne quan se fai devis 
D'autrui amor, ni conoissens. 

Enoios! e que us enansa 

De m far enueg ni pesansa! 

35 B. N., fr. 1553. 

36 Choix des poésies originales des troubadours, vol. in, p. 43 ; 
cf. also Mahn, Gedichte der Troubadours, vol. i, p. 80. 


Quasqus si deu de son niestier formir: 
Me eonfondetz, e vos non vei jauzir. 

The St. Petersburg manuscript gives only: 

En eel temps que la verdure 
Est ou bois et ou vergier, 
Et ie oy ces oyseaulx chanter 
Et de mon ami me souvient 
Que ie prens a regreter. 

Gauchat 37 was unable to identify the Provençal version 
found in the manuscripts of the Violette and I am unable 
to add anything to his results, except to point out that 
Mahn 38 has published a poem by Bernard de Ventadour, 
the first stanza of which slightly suggests the one in question. 
Gaston Paris in commenting on the three Provençal songs 
of the Rose (of which only one is in the original dialect) is 
of the opinion that these songs were little understood by the 
northern audiences, and that they probably represented a 
sort of fad. The difficulty experienced by the later copyists 
of the Violette in understanding these strophes would bear 
him out in this conjecture. 

The next song is sung by the heroine, Oriaut, to repulse 
the would-be seducer, Lisiart, who has come to her castle to 
win the wager made with Gérart. As given in the Violette, 
the, song is: 

Amors mi font renvoi sier et canter 

Et me semont que plus jolie soie, 

Et me donne talent de miels amer, 

C'onkes ne fis, pour cest fol ki m'en prie; 

Que j'ai ami, a nul fuer ne volroie 

De son gent cors partir ne desevrer; 

Ains l'amerai, que j'en sui bien amee. 

37 Les Poésies provençales conservées par les chansonniers fran- 
çais; in Ro. xxii, p. 364. 

38 Gedichte der Troubadours, vol. I, p. 74. 

142 BÜFFUM [14 

Laissie me ester, ne m'en proies jamais: 
Sachies de voir, c'est parole gastee ( 445 ) . 

This is from a chanson de mal mariée by Moniot d'Arras; 
the entire poem is published by Jeanroy. 39 The author of 
the Violette has altered the inappropriate refrain of the 
original. As written by Moniot d'Arras it was : 

Quant plus m'i bat et destraint li jalous, 
tant ai je miex en amor ma pensee, 

and was adapted to the typical mal mariée. The author of 
the Violette, however, substituted a refrain more appropri- 
ate for a woman, who, faithful to her lover, wishes to repulse 
the advances of the seducer. Michel 40 calls attention to a 
similar idea given in the Jeu de Robin et Marion: 41 

Vous perdes vo paine, sire Aubert; 
Je n'amerai autrui que Robert. 

The treacherous seducer has not been successful, but 
through Oriaut's duenna he learns of the violet on the girl's 
body, and with this information he returns triumphantly to 
court in order to claim Gérart's property, forfeited to him 
in accordance with the wager. Gérart is summoned to court, 
and as he comes with a retinue of a hundred young noblemen 
riding two by two and wearing chaplets of roses, he sings, 
and the young men of his suite reply in chorus : 

Ensi va ki bien aimme, 
Ensi va (716), 

or as given by the second Parisian manuscript : 
Bon jor a la bêle qui mon cuer a. 

39 Origines de la poésie lyrique en France, p. 496. 

40 Violette, p. 25. 

41 Verse 83. 


The fact that the longer songs were sung by one person, 
s while the refrains were sung in chorus, suggests one reason 
for the preservation of the latter. These two refrains are 
additional examples of chansons à carole. In the first the 
adaptation of the words ensi va to the original movement of 
the dance should be noticed. Barbazan and Méon 42 give it 
in the Cour de Paradis, where it runs : 

Tout ensi va qui d'amors vit et qui bien aime. 

Jeanroy 43 also cites several examples of this type of carol, 
including this refrain from the Violette. The variant is 
found in a song by Baude de la Kakerie, given by Bartsch 44 
as follows : 

Boen jour ait ki mon cuer a. 

Eefrains of this simple type were so common 45 that it can 
scarcely be said that the author directly copied from any 
one; quite probably he quoted from memory. 

Here again we see that these refrains, originating as 
dance-songs, were later sung without the dance, and that 
they constantly appear in longer poems for which they were 
not originally intended. 

Oriaut has also been summoned to court to be present 
when the traitor Lisiart accuses her of infidelity. As she 
enters, Gérart sings : 

42 Fabliaux et Contes, nouvelle édition, Paris, 1808, vol. ni, p. 137. 

43 L. c, pp. 395-396; the reference, however, should be to p. 38, 
not to p. 39 of the Violette; see also A. und A., vol. xciv, p. 84, and 
Barbazan et Méon, Fabliaux et Contes, vol. in, p. 375, Chat, de 
Saint Grilles. 

44 Rom. und Past., p. 95. 

45 Cf. for similar refrains: song by Perrin d'Angecourt (No. 18 of 
G. Steffens' edition, Romanische Bibliothek, xvin) ; Baudouin de 
Condé (Scheler's edition, Bruxelles, 1866), vol. i, p. 317; Conte du 
cheval de fust (by Gérart d'Amiens, see ZRP. x, 464); Raynaud 
et Lavoix, Motets, i, 67, 160; n, 101; etc., etc. 

144 BUFFÜM [1G 

Ki ameroit tei dame a chi 
Il n'aroit mie mescoisi (933). 

I have been unable to find this refrain elsewhere. 

After Gérart has been wrongly convinced of Oriaut's guilt, 
he abandons her in a wood, where she is found by the Duke 
4 of Metz, who at once falls in love with her. As the Duke 
carries her away to Metz he sings : 

Cil qui d'amours me conselle 

Que de li doie partir 

Ne set pas qui me resvelle 

Ne ki sont mi grief souspir. 

Petit a sens et voisdie 

Cil qui me velt castoier, 

N'onques n'ama en sa vie; 

Si fait molt niche folie 

Qui s'entremet del mestier 

Dont il ne se set aidier ( 1275 ) . 

This selection is the first stanza of the fourth song of 
Gace Brulé. 46 The quotation is practically word for word, 
and this would suggest that the author had access to a manu- 
script containing Gace Brule's songs. This poet was a 
favorite with the author of the Violette, for a little further 
on he again cites a stanza of his, a stanza that is also cited 
in the Rose.* 7 As given by the Violette the song is : 

Par Diu! je tiene à folie 

D'essaier ne d'esprouver 

Ne sa femme, ne s'amie, 

Tant com on le velt amer. 

Si s'en doit-on bien garder 

D'enquerre par jalousie 

Chou c'on n'i volroit trouver (1321). 

This song is given by Huet (p. 92) as the second stanza of one 

^Huet's edition; the quotation is from the fourth, not from the 
fifth, stanza of Gace as stated by Huet on p. evi, note 3. 
41 Line 3G16. 


of the pièces douteuses. It is interesting to note that the ver- 
sion of the Violette follows the original of Gace more closely 
than it follows the version given in the Rose, from which we 
conclude that the author did not copy the Rose servilely, 
but had first hand acquaintance with Gace's works. 

Gérait, after he has abandoned Oriaut, earns a livelihood 
by traveling from castle to castle as a minstrel. One day he 
reaches his own town of Ne vers and finds Lisiart in his 
castle. Here, when the two enemies meet, Gérart breaks off 
from the lyrics and sings more martial, epic lines. This 
citation, which affords the only instance where the source 
is mentioned, is from the " Roman de Guillaume le mar chis 
au court nés" a title used by the author of the Violette to 
designate Aliscans.* 8 The passage is sung in the traditional 
epic manner to the accompaniment of a vielle, though before 
the meal and not afterwards, as was more usually the case. 
Gérart sings of the wrath of Guillaume, and the author of 
the Violette gives another example of his characterictic taste 
in the introduction of the various songs. As printed by 
Michel 40 the selection consists of twenty-five assonanced 
decasyllabic lines. In this selection the interesting reference 
to the fable of The Bull and the Sheep occurs. 

The duenna who aided Lisiart to betray Oriaut is also in 
the castle. Gérart overhears a conversation between the 
accomplices and thus learns of Oriaut's innocence and Lisi- 
art's treachery. Gérart at once sets out in search of his 
lost mistress, and here the story takes on the characteristics 
of the ordinary roman d'aventure. It will be necessary to 
give only enough of the plot to make clear the manner of 
introducing the songs. One day Gérart rescues a maiden, 
who promptly falls in love with her rescuer and sings to him : 

4 « Lines 3036 ff. 

49 Violette, lines 1407-1431; the passage as given by the manu- 
scripts of the Violette is defective, Michel has followed the version 
given by a manuscript containing the entire poem of Aliscans, see 
Violette, p. 74. 


146 BUFFUM [18 

Tant arai bonne amour quise 
Cor l'arai a ma devise (2056). 

These lines are given by Bartsch 50 as the last couplet of the 
fourth stanza of an anonymous romance. The author of the 
Violette has already quoted the refrain of the first stanza 
of this poem. 51 As published by Bartsch the lines are : 

Mes cuers a bone amor quise 
tant c'or l'a a sa devise. 

The future tense of the version of the Violette shows the 
author's tendency to adapt his quotations to his context. It 
will be remembered that in the case of the other refrain bor- 
rowed from this song the author of the Violette also altered 
the lines to fit his context. 

Gérait soon sets out again in his search for Oriaut. In 
one of his numerous adventures he is wounded and forced 
to rest at the house of a certain bourgeois. The latter 7 s 
daughter was at work one day on a stole and an amit of 
silk and gold and was embroidering many a star and many 
a cross. As she worked she sang this chanson à toile: 

Siet soi biele Euriaus, seule est enclose; 
Ne boit, ne ne mangue, ne ne repose; 
Souvent se claimme lasse, souvent se cose 
C'a son ami Renaut parler n'en ose; 
Souvent s'encrie en hait: 
"Ha! Dex! verrai-jou ja mon doue ami Renaut!" (2312). 

The only place in which this song has been preserved seems 
to be the Violette. It is from this source that Bartsch 

™Rom. und Past., p. 39. In the Poire, by Messire Thibaut, of 
the last quarter of the thirteenth century perhaps, the song reads: 

Tant ai leal amor quise 

C'or le sai a ma devise, 11. 2413-14. 

Messire Thibaut, etc., F. Stehlich, Halle, 188L 
51 Lines 140-141. 


obtained it for his Romanzen und Past our elleno 2 Accord- 
ing to Gaston Paris 53 there have been preserved only sixteen 
of these chansons à toile (of which there are six in the Rose 
and one in the Violette). They are so named because they 
were sung by women as they embroidered or sewed. They 
were popular in the twelfth and, as this selection of the 
Violette shows, in the early thirteenth centuries. Gaston 
Paris thinks that this " genre charmant et vite disparu " has 
survived in greatly reduced numbers. 

The name of his mistress occurring in this song reminds 
Gérart that he must be on his way once more, and he sings 
for his comfort: 

Amors, quant m'iert ceste painne achievee 
Qui si me fait a grant dolour languir? 
Souvent mi fait mainte dure escaufee, 
Souvent rouuer 54 et maintes fois pâlir, 
Fremir, trambler, tressuer, tressaillir. 
Souventes fois m'est a joie tornee, 
Et aussi tost sor le point de morir (2348). 

Michel 55 sees in this song a contre- épreuve of the fragment 
of Sappho. In Huet's edition of Gace Brule's works, 56 there 
is a chanson which slightly resembles this song of the Violette 
in matter and in rimes, though the latter are there reversed. 
Gérart continues his search for his lost mistress and soon 
has another adventure in which he wins the love of one more 
maiden by his valorous deeds. This girl gives vent to her 
feelings as follows: 

En non Diu, c'est la rage 
Li dous maus d'amer 
S'il ne m'asouage (3126). 

52 P. 18. 

63 See his article on the Chansons in Servois' edition of the Rose; 
also J. B. Beck, La Musique des Troubadours, Paris, 1910 (under 
chansons à toile, pp. 100-104). 

54 Michel, rogir. M Violette, p. 116, note. 

56 P. 94. 

148 BÜFFUM [20 

These lines are the first two of a motet given by Raynaud 
and Lavoix ; 57 it is there printed as follows : 

En non Diu, Dieus, c'est la rage 
Que li maus d'amer si n3 m'asoage! 

Similar lines may be found in an anonymous song quoted 
by Bartsch 58 and in one by Baudes de la Kakerie, 59 who has 
already furnished a refrain for the Violette. 60 While the girl 
sings of Gérart in the song just given, a friend of hers, who 
is also in love with Gérart, sings in reply to this song: 

Vous cantes et je muir d'amer: 

Ne vous est gaires de mes maus (3143). 

This refrain occurs in a pastourelle published by Bartsch. 61 
It forms a part of the refrain to the second stanza and there 

vos chantés et je muir d'amer: 
ne vos est gaires de ma mort? 

The advances of these girls are of little avail with Gérart, 
who sings a little later : 

Destrois, pensis, en esmai, 
Cant de bonne amor souspris, 
Et faic samblant cointe et gai 
La ou sui plus d'ire espris. 
Ma tres douche dame ou j'ai pris 
Les maus dont ja ne garrai, 

Ains en trai 
Les painnes com fins amis (3244). 

This is the first stanza of a song by Audefrois li Bastars. 

57 L. c, No. exxxix (i, 164). 

58 Rom. und Past., p. 191. 

59 Rom. und Past., p. 303. 

80 Variant to the refrain at line 716. 
61 Rom. und Past., p. 176. 


The entire song has been published by Brakelmann. 62 A 
little further on Gérart again sings of the absent Oriaut: 

Je ne le voi mie chi 

Cheli dont j'atenc ma joie (3333). 

I have been unable to identify this refrain; the phrase of 
the last line, however, is common. 63 The girl is still very 
much in love and a little later she sings : 

Ki set garir des maus d'amer, 

Si viegne a moi; que je me muir (3452). 

These rather commonplace lines are similar to the refrain 
ending with line 3143 and already identified. They are 
similar to many of the refrains occurring in the chansons; 
compare the following given by Bartsch : 64 

Au cuer les ai, les jolis maíz: 
Coment en guariroie ? 65 

Perhaps we have here a refrain composed from memory by 
the author of the Violette, or formed by utilizing the com- 
monplace ideas of several refrains. 

Soon afterwards Gérart sings before the love-sick girl the 
following song in honor of Oriaut, a stanza which I have 
been unable to identify: 

Par .j. seul baisier de cuer a loisir 
Poroit longhement mes maus adoucir; 
Mais de desirier me fera morir. 

S'encor n'en ai joie, 

Bonne est la dolours 

Dont il vient 

Et honnours et joie (3654). 

62 A. und A., vol. xciv, p. 90, Marburg, 1896. 

63 Cf. Raynaud et Lavoix, Motets, No. lv. 
^Rom. und Past., 21. 

65 Cf. also Bartsch, Rom. und Past., p. 30 and p. 79. 

1 50 BÜFFUM [22 

The girl's jealousy is aroused and she wishes to know whom 
Gérart so honors ; he replies : 

Adeviner pores cui j'aimme, 

Par moi ne le sares-vous ja (3673). 

An idea similar to one given by Jeanroy : 66 

Ja par moi n'iert noumee 
cele cui j'ai amee. 

A little later Gérart again sings of his love: 

J'atenc de li ma joie: 

Diex! arai le jou ja? (4180). 

A typical refrain of the poésie courtoise, with which the 
following given by Jeanroy, 66 may be compared: 

Mais n'aurai joie en ma vie, 
dame, se de vous ne me vient. 

This refrain is also similar to that already cited at lines 

As Gérart again sets out in search of Oriaut he sings the 
second (the third, if the variant of the first be counted) 
Provençal song of the Violette, which proves to be by Ber- 
nard de Ventadour. It may be found in the Provençal 
chrestomathies of Bartsch 67 and Appel. 68 The stanza is also 
given by the Rose. 69 Michel has substituted the version 
given by Raynouard 70 for that given by the manuscripts of 
the Violette, which he considers extrêmement défiguré. The 
corrupt version of the better of the two Parisian manuscripts 
is as follows: 

Quant voi la loete moder 
De ioi ses ele contre rai, 

66 Origines de la poésie lyrique en France, p. 121. 
"Column 68. 68 P. 56. 69 Line 5197. 

70 Choix des poésies originales des troubadours, ni, p. 68. 


Qui s'oblide et laisse cader 
Pour la douchour c'al cors li vai; 
Dex! tant grant anuide mi fai 
De li quant vi la jausion! 
Mirabillas son cant fait 
Anui le felon (4201). 

Gaston Paris has given this stanza reconstructed from the 
two Parisian manuscripts of the Violette. 71 He does not, 
however, cite the variants except to call attention to the 
fact that in one manuscript the song is called a son poitevin 
and in the other a son provençal. Paris thinks that the 
presence of the Provençal songs in the Rose proves their 
popularity in northern France as late as the twelfth century. 
Their presence in the Violette shows that the time may be 

v extended to 1225 or 1230. Paris is also of the opinion that 
these songs were brought to the North by the jongleurs in 
their repertory of love songs, and that the various versions 
of this song by Bernard, preserved in northern manuscripts, 
go back to a common source. 72 Of the three songs of Pro- 
vençal origin in the Violette (one being merely a variant), 
two are in the Provençal dialect and one has been translated 
into the langue d'oïl; two are by Bernard de Ventadour and 
one is of unknown authorship. Of the three Provençal 
songs of the Rose, two are there given in the northern dia- 
lect and one in Provençal. . They are by Geoffroi Eudel, 
Bernard de Ventadour and probably Eigaud de Barbézieux. 
The tendency already mentioned on the part of the author 
of the Violette to shorten the selections may be seen also in 

v the case of the song of Bernard de Ventadour cited in both 
the Rose and the Violette. Two stanzas are given in the 

Gérart again takes up his search for Oriaut and one of 
the deserted girls sings: 

n Servois, Rose, p. cxvi. 

72 See his article on the Chansons in Servois' edition of the Rose. 

152 BUFFUM [24 

Dex! li cuers me faurra ja: 
Trop le désir a veoir ( 4352 ) . 

These lines are given by Bartsch 73 as the refrain to the first 
stanza of an anonymous pastourelle. 

The girl sends a messenger in search of Gérart and as the 
messenger leaves she sings to him : 

Vous qui la ires, pour Diu, dites-lui 

C'a la mort m'a trait s'il n'en a merchi (4417). 

This is the refrain of the third stanza of the pastourelle 
from which the preceding refrain was taken. 74 

As Gérart rides on in search of Oriaut, he sings a refrain 
which I have been unable to identify, it is: 

Volentiers verroie 

Cui je sui amis: 

Diex m'i maint a joie! (4487). 

Again he sings : 

Par Diu! Amours, grief m'est a consirer 

Dou douch solas et de la compaignie, 

Et des biaus mos dont sot a moi plaire, 

Cele ki m'ert dame, compaigne, amie, 

Et quant recort sa simple cortoisie 

Et son doue vis et son viaire cler, 

Comment me puet li cuers el cors durer 

Que ne s'en part? certes, trop est malvais (4638). 

This stanza has been identified by Michel as the third of a 
song by the Châtelain de Couci and has been published by 
Michel in his edition of this poet's works. 75 The song as 
given above is corrupt. Michel's edition of the Violette gives 
the stanza reconstructed from both the Parisian manuscripts. 

73 Rom. und Past., p. 134; see also A. und A., op. cit., p. 82. 

74 See Bartsch, Rom. und Past., p. 135. 

75 P. 79 ; see also Brakelmann, Les plus anciens chansonniers fran- 
çais, p. 104. 


Gérart, intent on his search for Oriaut, unintentionally 
makes another conquest in the course of his wanderings, 
but he is soon on his way again and this time the girl sings 
as he leaves : 

Lasse ! comment porrai durer ? 

Or ne sai mais que devenir 

Quant cil que je voloie amer 

Ne m'a daigne ne velt oïr, 

Si ne me puis recomforter, 

Ains m'estuet le mal endurer 
Ki me destraint et lasse et fait fremir; 
Ne de nule autre amour ne quier joïr (5065). 

Michel has pointed out the resemblance of the first line of 
this stanza to the following from Renart le Nouvel: 

Diex! comment porroie sans celui durer, 
Qui me tient en joie ? 7C 

Gérart hears the song, but he is so little affected that he 
sings of Oriaut : 

Or aroie amouretes 

Se voloie demourer (5076). 

Though I have been unable to find the source of this refrain, 
refrains so ending are not rare. The rime is furnished by 
the lines of the preceding stanza. 77 

Towards the end of the Violette/ 8 after Gérart's search 

78 Violette, p. 236. 

77 Cf. Bartsch, Rom. und Past., p. 43. 

78 At line 5106 the poorer Parisian manuscript (B. N., fr. 1374) 
substitutes for twelve (not thirteen as stated by Michel) lines of 
the better manuscript twenty-two lines which include this com- 
monplace refrain: Sains cors Deu! quant avérai celi cui faim? 
Though both the St. Petersburg and the New York manuscripts 
follow this reading, the passage is poorer than the version given 
by the best manuscript and was probably a later interpolation. 

154 BUFFUM [26 

has been successful and the lovers are once more together, 
Oriaut sings: 

J'ai recouvrée ma ioie par bien amer (5708), 
and Gérart replies : 

Nus ne doit amie avoir 

N'amer par droit, ki miex n'en doie valoir (5721). 

Waitz, 79 gives a song of Gillebert de Berneville, which 
contains the idea of the latter of these refrains. It is : 

Por valoir 
Doit avoir 

Chascuns bone amor 
Sans movoir. 

Again Gérart sings to Oriaut a song that proves to be the 
first stanza of a song by Gace Brulé : 80 

Ne mi sont pas ochoison de canter 

Près ne vergies, piaseis ne buisson: 

Quant ma dame mi plaist a commander, 

N'i puis trouver plus loial ochoison; 

Et molt m'est bon que sa valour retraie, 

Sa grant biaute et sa coulour vraie, 

Dont Dex li volt si grant piente donner 

Que les autres m'en couvient oublier (5798). 

Then follow three songs that have not been identified. 
Gérart sings to Oriaut: 

J'en sai .ij., li uns en sui, 

Cui Amors ont fait grant anui (6127), 81 

79 In Festgabe fur G. Grôber, No. 4. 

S0 Huet's edition, p. 45. 

81 Tarbé, Chansonniers de Champagne, quotes a jeu parti of about 
1220 from Bertrand Cordielle, in which the last two lines of the 
fourth stanza are: 

Soffrir atrait amors, certains en sui; 
Et orguels fait à mainte gens anui. 


and Oriaut replies: 

Bones sont amors dont on trait mal (6130). 

The latter is given only in the poorer of the two Parisian 

The final song of the Violette is given after the marriage 
of Gérart and Oriaut. Gérart sings to Oriaut: 

Qui bien aimme ne se doit esmaier 
Pour grevanche c' Amors sache envoier; 
Que a chelui donne double loier 
Ki pour lui trait plus de painne et essaie; 
Ne sans amour n'a nus joie vraie ( 6622 ) . 

In conclusion, the Roman de la Violette, one of the best 
known romans d'aventure, is, just as the Roman de la Rose, 
thoroughly imbued with the aristocratic spirit and may be 
regarded as representing in part the literature of the higher 
classes of French society when medieval civilization was at 
its height. The songs introduced were therefore of the 
style that would appeal to such a society, and they illustrate 
the kind of lyric literature prevailing at the courts of Louis 
VIII and Louis IX. 

Of the forty-four songs found in the Violette, the majority 
(twenty-eight) consist of refrains usually given as chansons 
à carole, with or without the accompanying dance. These 
refrains of from one to three lines are generally considered to 
be the débris of older dance-songs. They have, however, 
been strongly colored by the aristocratic or court spirit that 
came from the South, and, besides, the refrains of the 
Violette are probably only twelfth or thirteenth century court 
imitations of earlier refrains. The first seven carols are sung 
in April at Easter, and mention is also made of the garlands 
worn by the men as they go singing another song. There 
may be here a connection with the earlier May festivals, for 
which the earliest lyrics seem to have been composed and 
sung, and which are regarded by Gaston Paris as a survival 

156 BUFFUM [28 

of an old pagan custom. In the Violette, however, the popu- 
lar character has disappeared. 

Most of these brief refrains have been identified, and we 
have seen them figuring as refrains in what Bartsch called 
romances, which was a blanket term used by him to include 
chansons à toile, chansons de mal mariée, débats, etc.; or 
they appear as refrains in the pastourelles. In certain cases 
the author of the Violette exactly followed the original, in 
others he adapted the original to the requirements of his 
v context, in a few instances he may have blended several re- 
frains into one or composed one refrain out of several from 
his memory. In the case of the refrains that have been 
identified, the author of the Violette may not, of course, 
have copied the version that I have found. Both writers 
may have copied an earlier model. In one instance we find 
the author quoting a stanza, but with the substitution of a 
different refrain. The refrain was thus felt to be some- 
s thing distinct from the stanza, and doubtless many of the 
refrains given by Bartsch were never composed for the 
songs in which they occur. The number of refrains in the 
Violette and the Rose is almost the same, but neither offers 
an example of the rondel, the older form of the triolet, which 
was built up from just such refrains. There is, however, 
in the Violette an instance of a refrain which occurs in 
Bartsch as the refrain of a rondel. 82 

Of the twenty-eight refrains of the Violette, twelve have 
been identified, resemblances of eleven to refrains occurring 
elsewhere have been pointed out, and five have not been 

Of the sixteen songs which are not refrains, but consist 
of a number of lines, four are by Gace Brulé, one each by 
Moniot d'Arras, the Châtelain de Couci and Audefrois li 
Bastars, two from the Provençal poet Bernard de Ventadour, 
one is an anonymous chanson de toile occurring only in the 

M Violette, lines 151-152. 


Violette, one is from an epic of the southern cycle, Aliscans, 
and five have not been found (except for minor resemblances). 

These longer lyrics, as well as the refrains, are in the 
courtois style. The conventional idea of the mal mariée, the 
idea that love is incompatible with marriage, that the hus- 
band is the arch-enemy, represent a phase of the Provençal 
influence, but by no means represent ideas common to all. 
If society as a whole had believed in these ideas, the logical 
result, as Gaston Paris suggests, would have been the aboli- 
tion of marriage. 

Lastly, the Violette is the second roman d'aventure to in- 
troduce these songs, and by his method the author should 
be placed between the author of the Rose, who never brings 
in a refrain of one line, and the later imitators, who scarcely 
use anything but these brief refrains. The Violette, by 
never citing more than one stanza of the longer songs, also 
illustrates this tendency to reduce the length of the quota- 
tions. In never mentioning the source from which the songs 
were drawn (the epic passage is of course excepted), the 

Violette conforms to the later fashion. On the other hand, in 
the choice of his quotations and in the manner of introducing 

them (in addition to the title of his work and the motif 

of the flower) the author of the Violette closely follows the 

Rose, but shows superior taste in adapting his songs to the 




H. Carrington Lancaster 

The fact that Corneille and Racine drew their tragic ma- 
terial largely from ancient sources has given rise to a belief, 
current in America, if not elsewhere, that modern subjects 
were never allowed by authors of French classic plays. " The 
subjects of French tragedy," a prominent American scholar x 
has recently stated, " were, in the seventeenth century, taken 
exclusively from the Bible (Old Testament) history or from 
Greek and Roman history and legend." If the Cid and 
Bajazet should be cited to prove this statement erroneous, the 
reply might be made that the former was written before the 
classic manner became thoroughly established and was at first 
called a tragi-comedy, not a tragedy, while the choice of the 
latter subject made necessary Racine's explanation that the 
" éloignement des pays répare en quelque sorte la trop grande 
proximité des temps." 2 

But the Cid and Bajazet are by no means the only classic 
tragedies with modern subjects, nor are Turkish and Spanish 
history alone utilized. England, for example, furnished sub- 
jects from the lives of Edward III, Thomas More, Lady Jane 
Grey, and especially Mary Queen of Scots and the Earl of 
Essex. National tragedies were written concerning Anne of 
Brittany and Joan of Arc. These plays and others that could 
be mentioned show that the modern subject, though less 

1 T. F. Crane in his introduction to Chatfield-Taylor's Molière, 
p. XIX. 
2 Bajazet, second preface. 

1] 159 


popular than the ancient, was freely admitted throughout the 
classic period. 

It ought not to surprise us, therefore, to find among such 
plays Le Jugement equitable de Charles le Hardy dernier due 
de Bourg oigne, 3 a tragedy published by Antoine Mareschal in 
1646, concerning events supposed to have happened almost on 
French soil less than two centuries before. A study of this 
work shows how modern history was treated by classic 
dramatists and gives an opportunity to compare seventeenth 
century with sixteenth century handling of the same material, 
for the story had already given rise to a Latin Philanira 
(1556), turned by the author^ Claude liouillet, into French 
as Philanire, femme d' Hy polite (1571). 

The plot of these plays is derived from an historical inci- 
dent, which occurred many years after Charles's death and of 
which he was subsequently made the hero. It is concisely told 
in the argument to Philanira and its French translation : 

" Quelques années sont passées, depuis qu'une Dame de 
Piémont impetra du Preuost du lieu, que son mari lors 
prisonnier pour quelque concussion, et desia prest a receuoir 
iugement de mort, luy seroit rendu, moyennant une nuit 
qu'elle luy presteroit. Ce fait, son mari le iour suiuant luy 
est rendu, mais ia exécuté de mort. Elle esplorée de 1' une et 
l'autre iniure, a son recours au gouuerneur, qui pour luy 
garantir son honneur, contraint ledit Preuost a l'espouser, puis 
le fait décapiter : et la Dame ce pendant demeure despourueue 
de ses deux maris." In the play this " gouuerneur " is called 
the " Vice Roy " of the French king, a clear reference to the 
Maréchal de Brissac, who governed Piedmont for Henry II 
from 1550 to 1559 and who is named by Belleforest as the 
hero of this tale. 4 

Another version is given in a certain Histoire d'Italie, cited 

3 Paris, Toussainct Quinet. 

4 Belleforest's version is found in the Sixiesme Tome des Histoires 
tragiques, Paris, 1582, pp. 171-191; also, incompletely, in Golart, 
Thrésor d'Histoires admirables et mémorables, Geneva, 1620, i, 304-5. 


by Goulart, 5 in which 1547 is mentioned as the date of the 
event ; the Duke of Ferrara is the hero ; a Spanish captain, the 
villain ; a citizen of Como, the husband. Pierre Matthieu fi 
changes the Duke of Ferrara to " Don Ferdinand de Gonzague, 
lieutenant général de l'Empereur Charles V." John Cooke 7 
follows Goulart more closely, adding the names of the Duke of 
Ferrara, the Spanish captain, and his victim. A similar 
story, in which the woman is the sister of the murdered man 
and the avenging ruler is the Emperor Maximian, was pub- 
lished in 1565 by Giovanbattista Giraldi Cinthio, 8 and became 
the source of Shakespeare's Measure for Measure through the 
version given by Whetstone in Promos and Cassandra (1578) 
and Heptameron (1582). 9 "We shall see presently that 
Charles the Bold was made the hero of the story by Pontus 
Heuterus (1584) and others. Lupton 10 gives a vague account, 
in which the hero is a judge. John Eeynolds 1:L tells the 
story of Gustavus Adolphus. Pomfret in 1699 made Colonel 
Kirke the villain of an incomplete version, to which more 
modern parallels are not wanting. 12 

Now, in the absence of contemporary evidence to the con- 
trary, we have no right to suppose that so complex a story 
as this arose independently at various periods and in various 
localities. 13 The versions must have had some common source, 

5 Ibid., Paris, 1601, I, 2nd part, pp. 59-60. 

6 In a note to his Histoire de Louis Onze, 1610, p. 292. 

7 Vindication of the professors and profession of the latos, 1646, p. 
61. For this and other references, cf. Douce, Illustrations, London. 
1807, I, 152-60 and n, 274. 

8 Hecatommithi, Mondovi, 1565, vin, 5. 

9 Cf. Shakespeare's Library, London, 1875, in, 155 sq. 

10 Siqvila. Too good to be true, London, 1580. 

11 God's Revenge against Adultery, added in 1679 to the sixth 
edition of Reynold's Triumph of God's Revenge against Murder. 

12 Cruelty and Lust in English Poets, London, 1810. Cf. Macaiilay, 
History of England!, I, 577-78. 

13 Similar stories of independent origin are incomplete. St. 
Augustine, De Sermone Domini in Monte, I, 50, tells of a poor man's 



whose nature will best be determined by consulting the narra- 
tives of men who wrote shortly after the occurrence of the 
events described. Of the early narrators, Lupton failed to 
locate or date his version; Giraldi and Heuterus were not 
contemporaries of the persons they wrote about. There re- 
main Eouillet, Belleforest, and, as representing an earlier 
Histoire d'Italie, Goulart, Matthieu, and Cooke. These five 
versions place the scene of the tragedy in Northern Italy 14 
and connect it with the wars between France and Spain which 
took place about the middle of the sixteenth century. They 
differ regarding the exact date and the names of the persons 

As Eouillet and Belleforest are describing recent events, it 
is probable that they are correct in making Brissac the hero 
of the incident, which must in that case have occurred be- 
tween 1550 and 1555, the dates of Brissac's appointment as 
Governor of Piedmont and of the publication of Rouillet's 
Latin play. The latter's contemporary testimony is hard to 
overthrow, but it is possible that the event may have involved 
Hercule d'Esté or Ferdinand de Gonzague rather than Brissac 
and that the story, coming to Eouillet through French sources, 
may thus have acquired as hero the French king's represen- 
tative in Italy. 

Concluding, then, that the story originated from events 
that occurred in Northern Italy towards 1550 much as Eouil- 
let relates them, we must now determine how Charles the 
Bold was substituted for Brissac or Hercule d'Esté as the hero 
of the tale. Barante accepts Charles's connection with the 

wife, who, to save her husband, sold herself to a rich man for a 
sack of gold and received a sack of earth in payment. There, too, 
the ruler intervened, but the husband was not put to death and, 
of course, there was no idea of the murderer's marriage to the 
widow and his subsequent execution. 

14 Giraldi's version helps to confirm the location of the story in 
Northern Italy, where the writer lived and composed the Hecatom- 


story as true, but J. F. Kirke rejects it because of parallel 
accounts referring to other rulers and the silence of con- 
temporary authors, such as Comines and Chastellain, with 
regard to it. 15 The first author who connects Charles with the 
story is Pon tus Heuterus 16 in 1584, who follows Rouillet's 
account with some changes of detail, new characters, and 
location in the Netherlands about the year 1469. 

But two stories of a somewhat similar nature had already 
been told of Charles by writers of the Low Countries. Eenier 
Snoy or Snoius, 17 who lived from 1467 to 1537 and conse- 
quently wrote not long after Charles's death, states that, about 
1469, just after the capture of Liège, Charles came to Zeeland 
and heard the complaint of a woman whose daughter had been 
ravished by a " consul praedives." He ordered the culprit to 
marry the girl or give her half his possessions and, when he 
refused, had him put to death, although before the execution 
the man offered to obey Charles's first command. Jacques 
Meyer, 18 who died in 1552, tells of events that occurred at the 
same period of Charles's life, with the scene in Holland in- 
stead of Zeeland. One of his officers tortured a citizen of 
Liège and ravished his wife when she came to beg for her hus- 
band's liberty. Charles had him put to death as in the 
Italian story, but there is no mention of marriage between 
the widow and the murderer. 

I cannot vouch for the historical accuracy of either of these 
accounts. As their authors lived shortly after Charles, and 
as the stories are neither improbable nor too remarkable to 
have been overlooked by earlier historians, it seems likely that 

15 Barante, Histoire des Ducs de Bourgogne, Paris, 1837, n, p. 
65 sq. ; Kirke, History of Charles the Bold, London, 1864, I, 516. 

16 Rerum Burgundicarum libri sex, v, 393-398 (Edition of 1639). 
As he states that his story comes "e manuscripto libello," it is 
probable that Rouillet is not his immediate source. 

11 De rebus batavicis, xi, 159, first published as the second part of 
Rerum Belgicarum Annales, Frankfort, 1620. 

18 Commentarii sive annales rerum Flandricarum, Antwerp, 1561. 


they are true. At any rate they appear to furnish Heuterus 
with the time and place of his narrative, Holland or Zeeland 
towards 1469, just after the capture of Liège. While they do 
not contain the most important element of Kouillefs story, the 
marriage of the widow to her husband's murderer, they have 
enough in common with it to suggest the introduction of 
Charles as the hero of the Italian tale. This, I take it, is 
the correct explanation: the story that is told us first by 
Eouillet was adapted to Charles the Bold by the influence of 
Snoy and Meyer. Whether the fusion was made by Heuterus, 
or by the author of the manuscript he mentions, remains 
unknown. It is Heuterus who put the complete story into 
general circulation. 19 

Heuterus was followed by Lipsius in 1605, and he by Pierre 
Mathieu in 1610. 20 Mareschal probably derives his version 
from the latter rather than directly from Heuterus or Lipsius, 
for there seems to be a case of verbal imitation, in spite of the 
fact that Mathieu uses little dialogue and Mareschal writes 
in verse. " Rendez moy à moy et ie vous rendray vostre mary ; 
il est mon prisonier et ie suis le vostre, il est en vostre 

19 Douce suggests that -the story of Olivier le Dain's death may have 
given rise to Charles's connection with this narrative and refers to 
Comines, edition of Godefroy, Brussels, 1723. But the story there 
related is taken, not from Comines, but from Boistel's Tragiques 
accidens, Paris, 1616, and it is incomplete, leaving out the essential 
incident of the widow's marriage. 

20 Op. cit., vu, 290-292. A similar story is told by Goulart, op. 
cit., Hi, 373-374 (Edition of 1628), in which Charles forced a noble 
to marry a girl he had raped and then put him to death. The date 
is uncertain, for Goulart gives as his sources " George Luterberg au 
2 livre des Magistrats " and " Spangenberg en son traieté du droit 
usage de la chasse." I have been unable to find out anything about 
the first of these; if the second reference is to Cyriaque Spangenberg, 
Der Jagdteuffel, Eisleben, 1560, the version is older than Heuterus 
and may have had some influence upon him. I imagine, however, 
that it is a later version of our story, adapted to the needs of writers 
on hunting legislation. 


puissance de nous mettre tous deux en liberté." 21 Mareschal 
writes in his opening scene: 

" Il est mon criminel et moy ie suis le vostre. 
Conseruez le par moy, conseruez moy par luy." 

In England, Lipsius's version is followed by Wanley and 
Burton 22 while Heuterus, through the narrative in Bayle's 
dictionary, inspired Steele to write article 491 of the Specta- 

We see, then, how this North Italian incident, dramatized 
by Eouillet and recounted by others, was fused with Dutch 
anecdotes of Charles in the version of Heuterus and thus, 
through Lipsius and Mathieu, gave rise to Mareschal's 
tragedy. But the two plays, thus connected historically, differ 
widely in the treatment of the material. 

Kouillet's play 23 begins with Philanire's expression of grief 
at her husband's imprisonment. Advised by her maids, she 
appeals to the prévôt, S enere, who falls in love with her and 
makes her the proposition mentioned. After renewed lamen- 
tations she is moved by the love of her children to consent to 
the loss of her honor, but she is rewarded in the morning by 
the jests of Seuere and the sight of her husband's corpse. 

" Voyla celuy que demandez si fort 
Voiez vous pas de quel sommeil il dort 
Tout estendu?" 

In the fourth act the widow demands vengeance of the 
French king's viceroy, newly come into Piedmont. The chil- 
dren, who accompany her, complain of their black garments 
and are reproved by their mother for not rather mourning for 

21 Mathieu, loe. cit. 

22 Of. Douce, loe. cit., who refers to Wanley, Wonders of the little 
world, in, 29, and Burton, Unparalleled Varieties, 42. 

28 As Rouillet's French play is a close translation of his Latin 
tragedy, the two works will he discussed as one. 


their father. The viceroy, shocked at her story, summons 
S enere and, finding that there is no doubt of his guilt, orders 
him to espouse the widow. After some slight hesitation, both 
Philanire and Seuere consent " de bien bon cœur " and the 
wedding is ordered to take place at once. In the fifth act 
we are told by a messenger that the morning after the mar- 
riage the viceroy had Seuere put to death, whereupon Philanire 
enters, lamenting the loss of the two husbands, apparently 
equally dear. She leaves the stage meditating suicide, which 
the messenger hopes to prevent. 

This analysis shows how incapable Eouillet is of changing 
his plot except in details, how he fails to see that the last two 
acts destroy the effect of the first three by showing the in- 
sincerity of Philanire's grief, how his interest in the bizarre 
stultifies his tragic appeal, while he is not a good enough 
story teller to avoid impeding his action by interminable 
speeches introduced to show the pathos of a situation. The 
usual defects of the sixteenth century are evident: turgid 
rhetoric, artificial imagery from the classics, excessive use of 
monologues, the banal chorus, prophetic dream, messenger, 
confidants. On the other hand these defects are less evident 
than in many contemporary pieces. There is real feeling 
in the first three acts, where the appeal is purely emotional 
and the situation suggests Andromaque. The introduction of 
the children and the brutal language of Seuere and the execu- 
tioner lend an unusual realism. Compared with other six- 
teenth century plays, there is a considerable amount of action, 
if less than M. Faguet would have us believe. 24 The author 
has not felt bound by the unities, for not only are there sev- 
eral places represented and more than two nights, but the 
story is acted almost from the beginning, contrary to the 
usage of his contemporaries. In short, by his neglect of cer- 
tain artistic standards, the crudity of his language, the 

24 Cf. his criticism of this play in the Tragédie française au XVI. 
siècle, pp. 369-373. 


naivete wUh which he follows his source, Eouillet shows that 
he has preserved certain characteristics of the medieval mys- 
teries in spite of his imitation of Seneca and his Greek pre- 

Mareschal is allowed by his seventeenth century idea of 
imitation to treat history with greater freedom. His regard 
for the bienséances and his inartistic desire to reward virtue 
make him provide the heroine, Matilde, with a third husband 
and prevent her being dishonored by the second. He seeks 
to bring his persons into conflict with each other and, as far 
as possible, to unite the whole play by a central struggle in 
the soul of the leading character. As his conception of the 
heroine prevents his allowing her the hesitation necessary to 
a moral combat, she yields the center of the stage to Charles, 
who is introduced in the second act and has the play named 
after him. To make his problem more difficult, the guilty 
man becomes his son and a new character is introduced to 
plead for the latter's pardon. 

The exposition of the play is excellent. No time is wasted 
on the discussion of previous events; the chief scenes pass 
between persons vitally concerned in what is taking place. 
Rodolphe, Governor of Maastricht, sends his subordinates,, 
Frederic and Ferdinand, to obtain a confession of guilt from 
Albert, while he remains with Matilde, the latter's wife, and 
seeks to convince her that her husband has sought to betray 
the city to the French king. When she tries to defend him, 
Eodolfe shows her that she has no proof of his innocence and 
tells her the only way in which she can save his life. Matilde 
rejects his proposition with indignation. Both Albert and 
herself will die rather than sacrifice her honor. Rodolf e shows 
her into the next room for a last interview with her husband. 

This exit makes possible a thoroughly dramatic situation, 
for Ferdinand, returning from an interview with Albert, comes 
to speak to Dionèe, Matilde's suivante, of Albert's innocence 
and his own love for Matilde. He is surprised not to find 
the latter in the room where he had left her pleading for her 

168 LANCASTER [10 

husband. Told that she is in the next room with Albert, 
Ferdinand replies that he has just left the latter in prison. 

" Albert n'est point sorti ; que mon cœur est blessé ! 
Et Frederic luy-méme -avec luy m'a laissé. 
Ah! ce rapport est faux; il m'instruit, et me trouble, 
Dionèe, on nous trompe; et ma crainte redouble. 
On vient: forçons la chambre; allons; suy ma fureur." 

The audience, led to believe that Matilde had gone to see 
her husband, suffers the same horrible suspense as Ferdinand 
and is not relieved by the following scene, in which Eodolfe 
is upbraided by his mother, Fredegonde, for his treatment of 
Matilde, and is threatened with the approaching arrival of 
Charles the Bold. We learn from Frederic, however, that 
Charles is coming because he is afraid that Albert's treachery 
may endanger Eodolfe and we also learn the truth about the 
latter's interview with Matilde. He tells Frederic that his 
purpose has been thwarted by Matilde's fainting and the 
entrance of her mother. The women believe, however, that 
he has been successful and Matilde is now engaged in rousing 
the town against her supposed assailant, Frederic, acting 
here as elsewhere the part of Iago or Narcisse, seizes the occa- 
sion to persuade Eodolfe to have Albert executed in order that 
the death of her husband, rather than the loss of her honor, 
may seem to be the cause of Matilde's lament. 

In the first scene of the second act we learn that Albert is 
innocent and that the letter, supposedly sent by him to Louis 
XI, was a forgery. The main struggle of the play now begins, 
when Matilde enters with Charles, urging him eloquently to 
forget his love for Eodolfe and remember only his duty to the 

" Vos Etats, sa valeur, sa faveur, vostre foy, 
Tout parle enfin pour luy; le Ciel parle pour moy." 

Charles debates, with préciosité to our thinking, probably 
not to that of the seventeenth century. He has put Eodolfe's 
welfare before the interests of state that held him at Liège, 


only to find him accused of a crime. Eodolfe tries to explain 
that Matilde fainted because of the news of her husband's 
execution, an event that is in reality now made known to her 
for the first time, as she plainly shows by the execrations she 
hurls at Eodolfe. Charles is shocked by the unjust and fool- 
ish haste of this execution, which prevents the discovery of 
possible accomplices. Eodolfe's attempted explanations only 
succeed in convincing Charles of his guilt and bringing about 
his arrest. A concluding tirade develops Charles's victory 
over his love for Eodolfe. 

But this struggle is renewed in the third act by the plead- 
ing of Fredegonde and Matilde. Charles, apparently unable 
to decide between them, declares that Eodolfe must imme- 
diately marry Matilde and bestow his possessions upon her. 
Neither Matilde's horror at this proposition nor Ferdinand's 
arguments turn Charles from his decision. Eodolfe is highly 
pleased. The ceremony is to be followed by a " tragédie " in 
which he and an unknown person are to take part. This 
anachronism, by which the court amusements of the seven- 
teenth century are put back into the fifteenth, may be par- 
doned by virtue of the dramatic interest it adds to the dénoue- 
ment, which is now eagerly expected. 

The fourth act tells us that one of Eodolfe's hirelings has 
committed suicide after confessing the whole plot against 
Albert and Matilde, that the latter's marriage to Eodolfe has 
been celebrated, that the play is being performed. The ac- 
tion is behind the scenes in accordance with classic usage. 
The recital is made by Dionèe to Ferdinand, Matilde's lover. 

" On ouure le Theatre 
On void sur le deuant un grand tapis s'abbattre; 
De flambeaux eselairans les deux cotez bordez; 
Deux hommes au milieu; dont l'un, les yeux bandez, 
Teste nuë, à genoux, le col sous une lame, 
A Ilo it dans un moment rendre le sang et l'ame : 
L'autre pour un tel coup tirant le coutelas 
N'attend que le sanai, que Charles ne fait pas." * 

25 rv, 3. 

170 - LANCASTER [12 

She adds that Charles has left the hall without giving the 
signal that will decide Rodolfe's fate. 

As in Horace, the recital of an important event, taking place 
behind the scenes, is made dramatic by its division among sev- 
eral persons, arranged so as to form a climax according to 
the amount of interest they have in the result. After Dionée's 
discourse, Matilde comes to tell us that the decision is sus- 
pended while Fredegonde pleads for Rodolfe. Then the fifth 
act begins with the entrance of Fredegonde and 'Charles. 
Despite her plea, he sends an attendant to order the execu- 
tion, whereupon she tells him that Rodolfe is his son by her 
sister and proves her statement by two notes left by the mother 
at her death. She has brought up Rodolfe as her own son. 
Charles is convinced, but decides not to alter his decision. 
Even Matilde now ceases to demand that Rodolfe be put to 
death, but Charles assures her that only so can justice be done. 
His victory over his emotions is considerably elaborated. 
Finally a captain brings the news of the execution. As 
Rodolfe swore before his death that he had not succeeded in 
his attempt to ravish Matilde, there seems nothing to prevent 
her marriage to Ferdinand. Left alone, Charles, still the cen- 
tral figure of the play, laments the necessity that had forced 
him to this sentence : 

" O justice ! ô destin ! que vostre ordre est seuere ! 
Perdre un Fils! vos décrets me porter a ce poinct! 
Ciel! de l'ay fait; j'en pleure, et ne m'en repens point," 

This analysis shows how a classic dramatist handled a sub- 
ject from what he considered modern history. The theme is 
one that appeals to a romanticist: love, murder, and retribu- 
tion, a wife called upon to sacrifice her honor to save her hus- 
band's life, a professional villain who makes another of his 
master, the illegitimate son of a prince, recognized when the 
latter is about to put him to death; all in the late fifteenth 
century at the court of the last of the Dukes of Burgundy. But 
Mareschal is not turned from the classic principles of his 


time. Like Corneille he chooses a complex and unusual sub- 
ject and alters it to suit himself, selects an Auguste for his 
protagonist, seeks to rouse admiration rather than pity. His 
characters debate with themselves and with one another, adorn- 
ing their discourse with rhetorical periods, sententious lines, 
and subtle antitheses. 

He is classic in the rapidity of the action and the preserva- 
tion of the unities. By keeping Albert off the stage 26 and 
crowding into one act the events that preceded Charles's 
arrival, the author brings us quickly to the principal theme 
of the play, the justice of the Duke. There is a slight viola- 
tion of the unity of action in the unnecessary sub-plot con- 
cerned wth Ferdinand's love for Matilde. The fact that 
Eodolfe turns out to be Charles's son has no effect upon the 
action and consequently does not act as a deus ex machina; 
it helps to bring out clearly 'Charles's love of justice. The 
compression of the events into a single day suits Charles's 
impetuosity. The single place has the advantages and disad- 
vantages of similar arrangements in other classic plays. The 
scene of the play within the play, the sentence suspended while 
the prisoner waits with his head on the block, would have 
tempted a romantic dramatist, but Mareschal leaves it in the 
wings, and shows us instead the effect of the impending execu- 
tion upon Matilde, Fredegonde, and Charles. 

His treatment of local color and character is as fully 
classic. His people, indeed, unlike Eouillet's, bear names ap- 
propriate to the time and place in which they lived, Matilde, 
Ferdinand, Frederic, Leopold, etc. Mention is made of Louis 
XI, of the siege of Liège, of Maastricht. We see a feudal 
system in operation with the power of life and death in the 
hands, first of Charles, then of his subordinate. There is 
talk of war and tents. But there is little concrete and detailed 
local color except, perhaps, in the description of the " tra- 

26 For a different treatment of a similar subject, cf. Maeterlinck's 
Monna Vanna, 

172 LANCASTER [14 

gédie," which is clearly anachronistic. Mareschal seeks only 
the general characteristics of the times and is more interested 
in the ideas and sentiments of his characters than in their 
physical surroundings. 

His men and women illustrate general types. Matilde is 
brave, virtuous, vindictive, and cold; she shows as little hesi- 
tation in sacrificing her husband's life to her own virtue as she 
does in demanding the death of his murderer. Frederic is an 
accomplished villain, who arranges Rodolfe's crimes in their 
smallest details and inspires him with courage for their execu- 
tion. Eodolfe is the weak criminal, ruled by his passions and 
the suggestions of his intimates, without resources when left 
alone and without remorse until he is about to die. Ferdi- 
nand, the self-sacrificing lover, serves to comfort the heroine 
at the end of the play, as he had helped to keep the audience 
informed of various happenings during its progress. 

But we are mainly interested in Charles, the only his- 
torical person of the tragedy. It seems to me that Mareschal 
has succeeded in making an accurate picture of his hero, 
apart from his giving him an illegitimate son. Charles 
was noted for his continence, although he had been a 
reluctant bridegroom, and is said to have lived " plus chaste- 
ment que communément les princes ne font." 27 The picture, 
too, is incomplete, for Mareschal does not show Charles taking 
vengeance on Liège, contending with Louis, or attacking the 
Swiss. We think of him as the rash, obstinate, and blood- 
thirsty fighter because we remember him chiefly from these 
incidents, but there was another side to him, historically well 
attested, which we are apt to forget and which Mareschal has 
well described. 

Charles " aimoit fort ses serviteurs," " aimoit honneur et 
craignoit Dieu." 28 Comines 29 says that he was open to every 
appeal. He was rigorously just in his judgments, suppressed 

27 Chastellain, Panthéon littéraire, p. 509; Kirk, op. cit., I, 113. 

28 Chastellain, loc. cit. 29 II. 66. 


crime with vigor, and made no exception of the nobility. He 
was " sage et descret de son parler,, orné et compassé en ses 
raisons . . . parloit de grand sens : . . dur en opinion, mais 
preud'homme et juste, en conseil estoit agu, subtil.' 7 30 Ac- 
cording to Mareschal, Charles is an excellent judge, who hears 
Matilde's appeal and goes quickly to business, is not deceived 
by Rodolfe's efforts to clear himself, realizes the state's need 
of discovering a criminal's accomplices. He is a keen in- 
vestigator and knows when to be silent. He does not allow his 
love for Eodolfe to prevail over his sense of justice, basing his 
judgment on the need of example and reparation and, per- 
haps, influenced by Matilde's appeal to his religious ideas. 
Mareschal also shows Charles's impetuosity by his hurrying 
away from the siege of Liège to arrive almost unannounced at 
Maastricht and by the speed with which he proceeds to the trial 
and the execution of the sentence. He brings out his posses- 
sion of absolute power, his thorough acceptance of feudalism, 
his desire for fame. 31 Finally there is a certain hardness, 
a thorough self-confidence, a reserve, a melancholy about 
Charles that are admirably brought out in the play. On the 
whole, the portrayal is a fine example of historical characteri- 
zation as conceived by a classical dramatist. 

From the foregoing considerations it is clear that the mod- 
ernity of the subject has little effect upon the classic manner. 
For his chief appeal the writer depends on the admiration 
roused by a noble action rather than on the pity caused by 
suffering. History is followed only far enough to make the 
audience accept the narrative as plausible. The characteriza- 
tion is general; in the case of Charles, largely historical. The 
local color is that which Corneille put into his Roman plays, a 
few names and facts known to all, with few concrete details 
to rouse the imagination or distract the attention from the 
psychological study. The unities are preserved. Important 

30 Kirk, op. cit., i, 462. 
81 in, 2; v, 3. 

174 LANCASTER [16 

events take place behind the scenes, while their effect upon 
the minds of the characters is carefully shown. A classic 
dramatist does not become a romanticist by the choice of a 
modern subject. The two conceptions of the drama are so 
profoundly different that the plays remain essentially unlike 
even when one dramatist comes into the historical period 
supposedly reserved to the other. 



F. M. Warren 

The notions which obtain in the serious comedy of France,, 
the comédie larmoyante, during the second quarter of the 
eighteenth century, are commonly derived from the moralists 
of the closing years of the seventeenth century, and from 
ideas which were current on the English stage of that period. 
Apparently no attempt has been made to connect these 
notions with the conceptions and methods of French classical 
drama. Yet the ordinary trend of literary criticism would 
naturally lead to such an attempt. Dramatic composition is 
peculiarly amenable to tradition. The principles of the art 
are fairly permanent. The theatre of one generation invari- 
ably contains the germs of the theatre which follows. Why 
then should the comédie larmoyante prove an exception, and 
alone of all the forms of comedy or tragedy reject its an- 
cestral inheritance? Leaving England aside for the moment, 
we may admit that the ethics of La Rochefoucauld, La Fon- 
taine, Boileau and La Bruyère prompt the virtuous senti- 
ments of Destouches and La Chaussée. Certain apothegms 
of these older writers may be even regarded as the text for 
the exegesis of the younger. The familiar maxim of La 
Rochefoucauld : "Le bon naturel, qui se vante d'être si sensible, 
est souvent étouffé par le moindre intérêt" (Maxime 275), 
and its corrective with La Bruyère : " Il y a de certains grands 
sentiments, de certaines actions nobles et élevées, que nous 
devons moins à la force de notre esprit qu'à la bonté de notre 
naturel" ("Du Cœur," 79), contain the essence of Le Glori- 
eux or Le Préjugé à la Mode. The innate goodness of 
1] 175 

176 WARREN [2 

human nature, the joy which a " sensible " heart bestowed on 
its lucky possessor, may have been heresy and folly to the 
rank and file of Molière's contemporaries, but they never- 
theless formed the delight of some select souls of his day. 

However, neither La Rochefoucauld nor La Bruyère were 
playwrights, and of the quartet La Fontaine alone ventured 
to try his hand at dramatic composition. So that in order 
to give the comédie larmoyante a rational place in the history 
of the French theatre, we must find its forerunners in plays 
which preceded it. There must be ideas, episodes, perhaps 
plots — the last is surely not necessary — in the stage of the 
seventeenth century, which resemble the ideas and incidents 
of the serious comedy of the eighteenth. 

At first glance this resemblance does not appear. The strik- 
ing feature in Destouches, who anticipates and explains La 
Chaussée, 1 and therefore must himself be explained, is his 
character portraits, a trait which he borrowed from La 
Bruyère. His fondness for moral teaching may be attributed 
quite as plausibly to the example of Boileau and La Fontaine, 
It is also probable that Telemachus was a model for his 
heroes and heroines. For Fénelon has endowed this off- 
spring of his invention with those qualities of mind and 
heart that Destouches and La Chaussée never tire of praising. 
Telemachus is " sensible." He is emotional even to tears. 
His belief in the inherent goodness of human nature is based 
on bedrock. And the mere sight of the father whom he does 
not know is enough to start in him the flow of natural 
affection. 2 What further virtues can Destouches— or La 

1 G. Lanson, Nivelle de la Chaussée et la Comédie larmoyante, 
2nd ed'n., pp. 43-45. 

2 Télémaque, d'un naturel vif et sensible {Télémaque, vin). — Lais- 
sez-moi en ce moment pleurer mon père (do. i ) . — Il verse un torrent 
de larmes (do. vu). — Il s'afflige sans savoir pourquoi; les larme? 
coulent de ses yeux, et rien ne lui est si doux que de pleurer (do. 
xxvi ). — Télémaque ... se réjouissait qu'il y eût encore au monde 
un peuple qui, suivant la droite nature, fût si sage et si heureux 


Chaussée — add? Télémaque was published in 1699. L'Ob- 
stacle imprévu, where Destouches appeals for the first time to 
the voice of nature, where he makes his first attempt to 
heighten the spectator's interest by the sight of a father in 
disguise, 3 and where novelistic incidents first become notice- 
able, is of 1717. 4 

This same year, 1717, Destouches went to England. He 
staid there six years. It is generally supposed that acquaint- 
ance with the English stage increased his liking for pathetic 
scenes and moral exhortations. But when a specific instance 
of such an influence is sought for one finds himself in a quan- 
dary. The comedies of Cibber, Mrs. Centlivre and Steele, the 
dramatists in vogue during Destouches' residence in London, 
resemble the drame bourgeois but remotely. Steele's Con- 
scious Lovers, which was acted in November, 1722, could 
alone be cited as fostering a taste for the pathetic and 
romanesque. This play appeared only on the eve of Destou- 
ches' return home, and its peculiar characteristics may in 
fact have been due to the unrecorded instigation of the 
French playwright, a conjecture which is surely more probable 
than the other, that Steele swayed Destouches. 5 

Nor did the latter, when again in France, in 1723, imme- 
diately engage in further dramatic production. Several 
years slipped by before his Philosophe marié (1727) was 
staged. And here there is nothing new. The old effects of 

tout ensemble ( do. vili ) . — Je sens que mon cœur s'intéresse pour cet 
homme, sans savoir pourquoi .... je sentais bien dans cet in- 
connu je ne sais quoi qui m'attirait à lui et qui remuait toutes mes 
entrailles (do. xxiv). 

3 W. T. Peirce, The Bourgeois from Molière to Beaumarchais, 
Columbus, 1907 (Johns Hopkins dissertation), p. 58. 

4 Tears had already flowed in L'Ingrat (1712), and Le Médisant 
(1715). They are shed again in L'Obstacle imprévu. With this 
play melodrama really begins. 

5 See The Conscious Lovers, Act I, Sc. 2 (family captured on the 
high seas, daughter saved unknown to father), Act v, Sc. 3 (recog- 
nition scene, pathos, tears). 


178 WARREN [4 

L'Obstacle imprévu are simply revived and developed. A 
disguise again (of the unsuccessful lover, not the father), 
pathos and tears, and a moral lesson succinctly preached. 
But these features of the future comédie larmoyante now 
form scenes in a plot which was made fairly famous by 
later use, the idea of the husband ashamed of his love for 
the wife because the decree of fashion was against it. This 
notion had come forward in Destouches' first comedy, Le 
Curieux impertinent (1710), and, before Destouches, in Dan- 
court's Foire de Besons 6 (1695). Yet its repetition in Le 
Philosophe marié must have seemed a novelty to the public, 
for Destouches felt himself obliged to reply to the criticisms 
aimed at him with the one-act comedy of L'Envieux, much 
as Molière had defended himself under similar circumstances. 
In L'Envieux the various questions raised by Le Philosophe 
marié are passed in review, such as the husband's attitude 
towards the wife, the propriety of tears in a comedy, the 
advantages of a simple style and plot and the appropriate- 
ness of moral instruction on the stage. 7 

So it is in Le Philosophe marié of 1727, and not in Le 
Glorieux of 1732, that Destouches is confessedly conscious 
of his new departure. It is with this play, therefore, that 
the analysis of the elements which go to make up the 
comédie larmoyante should stop. What were these elements? 
"Were they purely narrative, disquisitional, coming from 
essays, maxims, satires, novels only? The confidence which 
Destouches showed in his apology of L'Envieux would argue 
that they were not. Had he doubted the strength of his 
case as a dramatic writer, had he felt himself unsupported 
by the traditions of the French theatre, he would have be- 
trayed some slight uneasiness at least when he summoned 
Molière's comedies o'f character to give their evidence in his 

6 Peirce, op. cit., p. 46. 

"'L'Envieux, Se. 10, 12, 14. — The apologist suggests Le Mari 
honteux de l'être as a better title for the original play. 


favor (Se. 14). Assured then by his bearing we should 
turn back to the stage of the seventeenth century, with the 
firm expectation of finding in its productions more than 
mere traces of these same novelistic ideas. And if we find 
them there to any marked degree, we would be in a position 
to object to the accepted verdict, that Destouches was the 
first who shaped them to dramatic ends. 

In such a review Corneille naturally leads, and so far as 
his comedies are concerned we do not discover any especial 
resemblance to Destouches. Le Menteur is a character play, 
but it is not at all pathetic. Corneille's tragedies are also 
foreign to the conception of the comédie larmoyante, with 
one important exception, Hêraclius. The performance of 
Hêraclius, in 1647, had been attended by a moderate amount 
of success. Its production by Moliereis company later did 
not, however, meet with favor. When it was revived again, 
many years afterwards, in 1724, Destouches had just returned 
from England, and the fortunes of the new comedy were 
hanging in the balance. But this time Hêraclius was well 
liked. Public taste had evidently changed. Hêraclius suited 
the change, and attracted sufficient notice to become the 
subject of a literary controversy. 8 Its romanesque plot and 
melodramatic notions, which may have harmed it under Louis 
XIV, helped it under his successor. 

For its hero, Hêraclius, is a disguised character. Phocas 
believes him to be his son, while in reality he is the son of 
Maurice, who had been put to death by Phocas. As a further 
complication, Phocas' own son, Martian, passes as the son of 
a governess. Phocas' desire to have Hêraclius marry Pul- 
cheria, who is Maurice's daughter and therefore Hêraclius' 
sister, forces the governess to acquaint Hêraclius with the 
facts of his birth. The other characters of the play remain 
unenlightened still, with the result that this misunderstanding 

" Marty-La veaux edition of Corneille ( " Les Grands Ecrivains " ) , 
v, p. 118. 


lasts up to the solution, and sustains the action. When all 
are finally informed of their actual parentage, Martian, who 
liad unwittingly joined in a conspiracy to kill Phocas, his 
father, claims that had he proceeded to carry out his purpose 
" nature " would have stayed his hand. 9 But Phocas could 
not rightly interpret this instinctive feeling because of his 
vices. After much wavering he thinks that nature indicates 
Heraclius as his son. 10 The goodness of Heraclius inclines 
him towards the same mistaken conclusion. Phocas' kindness 
to him makes him uncertain as to the promptings of nature's 
voice. 11 Yet when Phocas is punished at the end, it 'is 
Martian's heart and not Heraclius', which tends towards 
a silent protest. 12 

Disguised relationships, appeals to nature to decide which 
is the father, which the son, these are among the chosen 
devices of the comédie larmoyante. And they make the whole 
interest of Heraclius. Given again to the stage at the mo- 
ment when the new comedy was forming, with the authority 
of the great Corneille back of them, we cannot possibly pre- 
sume that they remained without any influence on the play- 
wrights of 1724. Though Destouches does not mention 
Heraclius, we must suppose, with his great passion for the 
theater, that he is to be counted among the spectators who 
applauded Martian's sentiments. Of the literary controversy 
which the tragedy excited he surely was cognizant. 

Other dramatists of Corneille's day, following in his foot- 

M Et lorsque contre vous il m'a fait entreprendre. 
La nature en secret aurait su m'en défendre. 

1343, 1344. 

10 Car enfin c'est vers toi que penche la nature. 1600. 

Cf. 1361, 1367, 1368, 1375, 1377. 

11 Des deux côtés en vain j'écoute la nature. 1592. 

Et le sang, par un double et secret artifice, 

Parle en vous pour Phocas, comme en lui pour Maurice. 

1599. 1600. 

Act v, Se. 7. 


steps perhaps, finding inspiration as he probably had done 
in the fashionable novels of the time, where nearly all the 
characters appeared in disguise, used romanesque notions here 
and there in their writings. Thomas Corneille's first tragedy, 
Timocrate (1656), is one example of this kind, nor does 
it stand alone among his works. Quinault's plays, Le Feint 
Alcibiade, Agrippa, Astarte, all delight in disguises. In 
Agrippa (1660) the solution is reached by the appeal to 
natural instinct, or, as Quinault terms it in one scene, " la 
voix du sang." 13 Whether there is any direct connection 
between these playwrights and Destouches, however, is' 

But with Racine the case is different. After the public 
performance of Athalie, in 1716, his fame rivalled Corneille's 
or even exceeded it. Yet how could Racine be suspected of 
cherishing any sympathy for the romanesque? He is so 
clear, so direct. It is true he was entering on his literary 
career at the moment when the faculty of being " sensible " 
was beginning to be valued by Parisian society. He could 
not wholly resist fashion. So Hermione is " sensible," and 
Hippolytus too. 14 Britannicus comforts Agrippina with the 
words, " nos malheurs trouvent des cœurs sensibles." 15 In 
Tphigénie the voice of nature is raised in protest against the 
sacrifice of a daughter. 16 And La Thébaïde, Racine's first 
tragedy, repeats with emphasis this characteristic of the 
comédie larmoyante. 11 That this very insistence of La Thé- 
baïde may have militated against its favorable reception by 
Racine's contemporaries is possible, but with the generation 
which had been stirred by the story of Telemachus we may 
assume that it counted for it. La Thébaïde underwent a suc- 
cessful revival in 1721, and through its handling of this 
feature of sentimental comedy lent the weight of Racine's 

13 Agrijipa, Act v. Sc. 3. — Cf. in Act v, Sc. 4, the line : 

Elle impute à l'amour ce que fait la nature. 

14 Androni aque, 472; Phèdre, 1203. 

15 Britannicus, 896. 16 281, 282. 
"267, 515, 807, 808, 983, etc. 

182 WARREN [8 

name also to the idea of the new theatre in the hours of its 

Corneille, then, undoubtedly fostered the notions of the 
comédie larmoyante. Eacine at least did not oppose them. 
There remains a third, and greater than they. Of Molière 
Destouches boasts himself a disciple. 18 From him he not 
only drew inspiration, but also the actual outline of certain 
episodes and plots, thoroughly assimilated to be sure, so 
that Destouches was practically unconscious of any plagi- 
arism. For instance, Le Bourgeois gentilhomme offers in 
the tenth scene of its third act the pattern for the fifth 
scene of the third act of Le Curieux impertinent, Destouches' 
maiden effort. The fifth scene of the second act of L'Ingrat 
recalls the twelfth scene of the third act of the same master- 
piece, with the parts of the sexes reversed. Both L'Ingrat 
and Le Médisant imitate in the female servant the common- 
sense soubrette of Molière. Les Philosophes amoureux, 
which, in 1729, followed after Le Philosophe marié, without 
continuing, however, the melodramatic tendency of the latter, 
paraphrases a familiar line of Les Femmes savantes. 19 
Destouches surely knew his Molière by heart. 

Out of this intimate acquaintance with Molière's intrigues 
and episodes developed a situation which is of capital 
importance in the history of the new comedy. In 1732 
Destouches put Le Glorieux on the stage. Le Glorieux 
inherits in a direct line of succession the novelistic style and 
methods of Le Philosophe marié. It goes even further than 
its ancestor. It elaborates the romanesque and makes it 
an essential part of the structure. And because of the 
prominence it gives to this element Le Glorieux is held to 
be a complete embryo of the comédie larmoyante. 20 By 
suppressing Destouches' study of character, in reality the 

"Preface to Le Glorieux; L'Envieux, Se. 14. 

19 Et pour l'amour du grec embrassez-vous tous deux. Act v, Se. 
2. Cf. Les Femmes savantes, 946. 

20 Lanson, l. c. 


minor part of Le Glorieux, and by retaining his melodra- 
matic ideas and scenes, in the following year La Chaussée 
evolved from this play La Fausse Antipathie. Consequently 
the construction and determining incidents of Le Glorieux 
claim close scrutiny. Their antecedents are the sources of 
the comédie larmoyante. By following them back to their 
origin the comédie larmoyante receives a proper, historical 
explanation. It ceases to be an outcast, a stranger to the 
tradition of the French theatre. With the proofs of its 
citizenship in hand, it can take its legitimate place among its 
fellows, like them a lawful offspring of the dramatic genius 
of the French people. 

Now Le Glorieux in certain passages reminds one of similar 
incidents in Molière^ L'Avare, and a careful comparison of 
the two comedies discloses more than one subtle correspond- 
ence. 21 Indeed it is seen that the novelistic part of Le 
Glorieux, in which lies its real interest, is simply the restate- 
ment of the romanesque secondary plot of L'Avare. The 
essential difference in the action of the two plays, by which 
the one remains a genuine comedy of character and the other 
becomes a comedy of manners, mainly arises from the fact 
that Molière speedily returned to his analysis of a miser, 
while Destouches subordinated the portrayal of his vain- 
glorious hero to the attractions of an adventurous narrative. 

The minor plot of L'Avare is outlined in its first scene, 
where the miser's daughter, Elise, and his domestic, Valére, 
talk over their love affair and mention the circumstances 
which had occasioned it. Valére is of good birth, but has 
taken service with Harpagon because he wants to be near his 
mistress, whose life he had saved. The first emotion aroused 
in Moliereis audience was therefore caused by the mutual 
affection of servant and mistress. The hope that Valére will 

21 The relationship of Le Glorieux to L'Avare was pointed out 
sometime since, in the Modern Language Notes of April, 1900: 
Molière's L'Avare and le Drame bourgeois. 

184 WARREN [10 

find his parents and thus win Elise's hand is excited at once 
in the spectator's mind. 

In Le Glorieux the parallel situation is spread out over 
an entire act, instead of being restricted to one scene. The 
characters reappear, but with conditions reversed. Valére 
is now the son of the family and Lisette is the domestic. 
But a series of explanations soon puts us in possession of 
the same information which Molière had offered in a more 
compact form. Lisette is high-minded, is of good birth, is 
beloved by Valére, had been his sister's school-mate before 
she became lier maid, and is promised better days by a 
mysterious friend, who will turn out to be her father. So 
much space is given to her fortunes that the marriage of Le 
Glorieux to Valère's sister, which should be the principal 
plot of the play, 22 is almost relegated to the background. 
Yet in spite of these pronounced divergencies in their treat- 
ment of the subject, and in their methods of dramatic 
construction, Destouches and Molière meet again in their 
respective solutions. In each a satisfactory outcome rewards 
the constancy of the lovers. The missing father of the 
valet appears, the disguised parent of the maid reveals him- 
self and the revelation of their position removes all obstacles 
to their children's happiness. 

The novelistic element of U Avare and Le Glorieux, there- 
fore, is in its essence the same. Of far greater volume in 
the one than in the other, there is yet no trait in the one 
that has not already been outlined by the other. And this 
faithful repetition of the ideas of the master playwright is 
emphasized by a further loan on the part of his admiring 
disciple. Harpagon's son had a sweetheart, Mariane, who 
was instinctively drawn to Valére at their very first meet- 
ing. 2? ' Lisette, too, was ever conscious of an inexplicable lean- 

2 - Peirce, op. cit., p. 59. 

23 Mon cœur s'est ému dès le moment que vous avez ouvert la 
bouche. L 'Avare, Act v, Se. 5. 


ing towards Le Glorieux. 24 The identification of their fathers 
furnishes in both cases the reasons for this involuntary senti- 
ment. Mariane and Valére prove to be brother and sister, 
as do Lisette and Le Glorieux. The cry of the blood had 
warned them. 25 

24 Sans deviner pourquoi j'ai du penchant pour lui. Le Glorieux, 
Act i, Se. 2. 

25 Destouches is not at all averse to repeating situations and 
details. In L'Obstacle imprévu, where his leaning towards serious 
comedy is first noticeable, he makes a father, Lisimon, and his son, 
Valere, in love with the same girl, Julie. Their clash of interests 
was probably suggested by the courtship that Harpagon and his son, 
Cleante, carried on with Mariane. An echo of L'Obstacle imprévu 
is given by Le Glorieux, where Lisimon and Valere again appear 
as father and son. Lisimon does not woo Lisette. He is married. 
But he offers her violence. Another loan made by Le Glorieux from 
L'Obstacle imprévu is the name of the old man, Licandre, who in 
each play is the hero of a romanesque adventure. 


B. L. Bowen 

Like many of the romanticists who followed him, Chateau- 
briand felt the peculiar fascination of Italy, and as traveler 
and linguist was drawn into sympathetic relations with the 
life and literature of that country. After America and Eng- 
land, it was Italy that next attracted him and that continued 
for forty years to exert its influence upon him. An ambitious 
traveler, he made the journey to Italy six times ; and while the 
ostensible motive of most of these visits was a political or a 
diplomatic one, it was the poetical and critical nature of the 
man that was the more deeply affected. His liking for 
languages had shown itself early in life, and, possessing an 
extraordinary memory, his progress in language-study had, as 
a school-boy, been remarkably rapid. While he spoke Italian 
less fluently than he did English, his knowledge of the litera- 
ture of Italy was commendable, and his memory was stored 
with passages from the great Italian poets. 

While so many of the great writers have visited and written 
about Italy, very few perhaps have risen to a full and adequate 
appreciation of her. The poet and the critic are often limited 
by a temperament and >a point of view which may be pre- 
judicial to breadth of judgment. It was nature rather than 
literature in Italy that appealed to Lamartine. Madame de 
Staël was impressed mainly by art in Italy, while her literary 
tastes were rather with Germany. And Byron, who failed to 
penetrate the depths of Italian thought, was moved by the 
passionate scenes in Dante, while the moral and religious force 
of the Divina Commedia escaped him or had for him little at- 
1] 187 

188 BOWEN [2 

traction. In the case of Chateaubriand, who was a man of 
pronounced personal peculiarities, it was inevitable that his 
critical attitude toward the Italian writers should be shaped 
in large measure by his own temperament and experiences. 
He had been an émigré in England, and he was proud of that, 
as of much else. He liked to emphasize his own exile from 
France, and sought while in Italy to sympathize with all those 
who, like himself, had been subject to banishment, going so 
far, while minister at Eome, as to intercede in behalf of the 
exiled brother of Napoleon. This temper of mind on the part 
of Chateaubriand was one factor which helped to shape his 
appreciation of Dante, in whom he reveres the illustrious exile 
and whom he had not at first fully appreciated as a poet. It 
is the poet's banishment that furnishes him with a key to his 
genius, and, after following him in his exile, the Italian tercets 
have for the French artist a new charm. At Ravenna it is the 
thought of the poet's misfortune and death in exile that move 
him to sympathetic comment. 

Chateaubriand was a solitary being who loved to withdraw 
within himself. And indeed the great Florentine was, accord- 
ing to the statement of his earliest biographer, a man who 
" loved to be solitary and apart from mankind." At all events 
it is evident that the melancholy, the sombre, the pathetic, 
always very congenial to the spirit of Chateaubriand, are fea- 
tures that appealed to him very forcibly in his study of the 
Divina Commedia, Sadness was for him the most essential 
quality of Dante's language. And he found nothing more im- 
pressive than the tremendous solitude of the dark wood in 
which Dante wanders at the beginning of the Inferno. The 
Inferno appeals particularly to Chateaubriand. He admires 
to the fullest extent the poet's genius as shown in the depict- 
ing of unmitigated woes and torments, but is less enthusiastic 
where it is necessary to portray sorrows mingled with some 
joys. Despair was better suited to his nature than hope, and 
the familiar " Lasciate ogni speranza " was the text of more 
than one passage in his works. The religious sentiment in 


Chateaubriand and the religious motive in much of what he 
wrote would naturally influence him in his judgment of a 
poem like the Divina Commedia. Since the Christian reli- 
gion attracted him as the most poetic and the most beautiful 
of all the religions that have existed, he was prepared to 
recognize poetic beauties in Dante's poem and anxious to at- 
tribute them to the influence of Christianity. The more 
sombre their coloring and the more gruesome and involved the 
setting, the more typical do they seem to him. The pit of 
serpents in the eighth circle of the Inferno furnishes an un- 
answerable argument in favor of the poetic beauties of the 
Christian religion. And even the celebrated Francesca da 
Rimini episode, as dear to Chateaubriand as to the roman- 
ticists who followed him, is made to owe much of its pathos 
to the inflexible justice of the Christian code. While the early 
commendation bestowed by him upon Dante was at times 
vague, betokening a somewhat superficial acquaintance, his 
later and more mature appreciation connoted an intelligent 
grasp of the poet's thought. The faulty standards of taste and 
a prosaic tone of verse which he discovered in some of the 
cantos were defects which caused him ennui, as did so mucli 
else apart from Dante. His recognition, however, of Dante's 
importance as a forerunner, and his emphasis of what he did 
for the Italian language and literature, his adequate parallel 
between Dante and Vergil, and his more suggestive compari- 
son of Dante and Shakespeare, are indicative of Chateau- 
briand's place in the domain of literary criticism. 

His interest in Petrarch was less marked. He was familiar 
with the Canzoniere and was touched by the soft harmony of 
the poet's verse. He had visited Avignon and Vaucluse, and 
made these places the basis of felicitous comments upon the 
poet's relation to Laura. And he placed great value upon the 
Latin works of the author, one of which he rated as superior 
to most of the sonnets. Chateaubriand was a most clever 
portrayer of the charm of melancholy, and was one of the first 
to emphasize traces of it found in earlier epochs; and this 

190 BOWEN [4 

brought him closer to Petrarch, whose lines expressive of his 
own dejected and solitary state are just the ones that provoked 
most cordial appreciation on the part of the French critic. 

Ariosto and Tasso are linked together by Chateaubriand as 
the two noblest men of genius that modern Italy has produced, 
but in his comparison of them the advantage is plainly on the 
side of the latter. And here the temperament of the critic 
again intervenes. Ariosto was, apart from the question of 
literary m?rit, a relatively fortunate man, attached to a power- 
ful ducal house, playing successfully the role of courtier, and 
winning more or less substantial favors. For this primary 
reason Chateaubriand was less attracted to him than to other 
more unfortunate men. The subject too of the Orlando 
Furioso was one that he considered ill-adapted to the poet and 
his environment ; and it occasioned him much surprise to think 
that Ariosto, having all about him the solemn and suggestive 
monuments of one of the most civilized peoples of the earth, 
should have seen fit to turn aside and consume his energies in 
celebrating the paladins of a semi-barbarous France. 

But to Tasso Chateaubriand was drawn as to no other 
Italian writer. The religious character of this poet's repre- 
sentative work had, as in the case of Dante, much to do with 
the critic's cordial attitude. And more cogent than in the 
case of Dante were misfortunes and wanderings in inspiring 
deep sympathy and homage. The sad story of Tasso's life, his 
delicate and super-sensitive spirit, his morbidity, his religious 
excitement, the incurable melancholy of his disposition, all this 
appealed strongly to a man of Chateaubriand's nature. For 
him Tasso was the man who had wept, as Ariosto was the 
man who had laughed. While at Ferrara he visited the sup- 
posed prison of Tasso, and wrote many vivid pages about the 
poet and his misfortunes, emphasizing the thought that if 
there is any one life illustrative of the fact that happiness must 
be despaired of by men of genius, it is that of Tasso. Chateau- 
briand had himself passed through a brief period of imprison- 
ment, and he utilized this circumstance as a pretext for a 


comparison of his own experience with that of Tasso in his 
long confinement at Ferrara. In the mind of Chateaubriand 
Tasso is the representative Italian poet. For him Tasso is 
always the Italian Homer; and indeed the personages of the 
Gerusalemme Liberata are judged superior to those of the 
Iliad. Tasso, in portraying his knights, has given types of the 
perfect warrior; while Homer, in portraying men of the old 
heroic ages, has drawn only species of monsters. And the 
reason is that here once more Christianity has stepped in and 
has furnished the beau ideal for the characters ; and that thus 
Tasso, himself the most devoted of knights, had an advantage 
which polytheism could not offer to the singer of Ilium. Tas- 
so's poem is for Chateaubriand a convincing proof that some- 
thing excellent can be produced upon a Christian theme ; and 
it might have been more powerful had the poet been less timid, 
and had he dared to utilize more freely the grand machinery 
of Christianity. According to Chateaubriand there have been 
in modern times only two noble subjects for an epic poem : 
the Crusades and the Discovery of the New World. The 
former is the more attractive to a Frenchman, and Chateau- 
briand is convinced that Tasso, in utilizing this subject, has 
constructed a poem which is a model in every respect. While 
the art with which the poet has arranged his scenes and 
mingled his episodes without confusing them is admirable, his 
character-sketching is not less skillful. Chateaubriand was on 
the watch for contrasts, and he was quick to see and emphasize 
in Tasso's men the clever grouping of the qualities of fierceness 
and generosity, grandeur and magnanimity, prudence and 
artifice ; and in his women coquetry, sensibility, and indiffer- 
ence. During his journey to the Orient, Chateaubriand had 
with him at Jerusalem a copy of the Gerusalemme Liberata, 
and he notes with enthusiasm the fidelity and precision of 
Tasso's descriptions, the vigor and purity of his style, his 
exquisite judgment, his sublime expressions, his admirable 
stanzas. Such are the critic's favorite epithets in discussing 
Tasso's lines. The poem is for him full of honor and chivalry ; 

192 BOWEN [G 

it is a soldier's poem, permeated with a spirit of valor and 
glory, so that one might fancy it had been written upon a 
shield in the midst of the active camp. Chateaubriand in- 
dulges in much praise of this sort. To be sure Tasso is at 
times hampered by his lack of boldness, and some of his lines 
are in poor taste, while others show evidence of undue haste. 

The death of Alfieri occurred while Chateaubriand was in 
Italy for the first time. He had never seen Alfieri in life, but 
was present at the preparations for his funeral; and this 
incident, which he first describes in his letter to M. de Fon- 
tanes and repeats later in his Mémoires, made a strong impres- 
sion upon his mind and led him to take an active interest in 
the works of the poet. He was further influenced by the fact 
that Alfieri had also been a writer of memoirs, while he him- 
self was preparing to write his own autobiography. And thio 
helps to explain why he preferred the author's memoirs to his 
tragedies, discovering in the former a more natural tone, but 
pronouncing the latter crude, cold, and pompous in style. 
Again, the passion for travel was common to both of these 
men, and this fact likewise led Chateaubriand to find a charm 
in passages of Alfieri's memoirs which he failed at times to 
discern in his more pretentious works. 

Manzoni and Silvio Pellico are associated together in the 
mind of Chateaubriand as farewell rays of Italian glory. But 
the former was for him much the less attractive figure; and 
though he was familiar with I Promessi Sposi, his interest in 
that work was incidental and his remarks upon the author 
have little critical value. In Pellico, however, he found an- 
other congenial spirit, and again misfortune served as the 
bond of union. At Venice the sight of the rooms in the 
Doge's palace where Pellico had been first imprisoned aroused 
him to vivid and impressive comments which are marred only 
by the unnecessary projection of his own personality and ex- 
periences into his description. The perusal of the Prigioni 
carried his enthusiasm to the highest pitch. He was de- 
lighted, and his delight expressed itself in a gay and jaunty 


style as he penned his appreciation to Madame Récamier. 
What appealed to Chateaubriand as critic was not so much 
the bearing of the work as a whole, as the lively interest of its 
varions characters and episodes. These he fonnd very pic- 
turesque and romantic, or at least he sought to lend to them a 
decidedly picturesque and romantic coloring. 

Chateaubriand's knowledge of literary Italy extended to 
Boccaccio and Metastasio, to the sonnets of Michael Angelo, 
the novelettes of Bandello, and the poetry of Francini, the 
Florentine friend of Milton. Of Goldoni he would seem to 
have known little, and doubtless he cared little for the comic 
tone of that writer ; though from his own assertions he studied 
and noted much more about Italy and her writers than he was 
able to incorporate in his Mémoires or other works. At all 
events his knowledge of Italian literature was unusually broad 
for his time. His attitude was very sympathetic if the life of 
the writer in question had been unfortunate. His literary 
judgments were often adequate, especially if the works had a 
religious setting or a sombre tone. His visits to Italy did not 
inspire him to write a novel or a poem upon that country ; and 
Corinne and the fourth canto of Childe Harold were composed 
while he was collecting material for his Mémoires. It was 
rather in critical and descriptive writing that Chateaubriand 
communicated his impressions of Italian life and literature. 
In this role of critic he was sometimes unduly influenced by 
his own point of view. He was too much inclined, in forminsr 
his critical estimates, to bring himself into the foreground, 
and to view the writer through the medium of his own tem- 
perament, tastes, and experiences. 




E. Preston Dargan 

In 1902, Catulle Mendès declared, in his frothy way, that 
the talent of Sully Prudhomme had long since overflowed the 
vase, the beautiful broken vase, wherein certain admirers had 
sought to confine it. These admirers, among whom the names 
of Gautier and Ste. Beuve are not least, spoke in the days 
before the elegist had formally donned the philosopher's robe ; 
they were right in remarking his primary qualities of sensi- 
bility, tenderness, melancholy; they were safe in caressing the 
contour of a vase, filled, as it appeared, with eau sucrée not 
far from the lake of Lamartine and transported to a retreat 
not unlike the ivory tower of De Vigny — where it was yet to 
enshrine the flower which the poet saw as La Pensée. 

In 1910, it would seem time at least to begin the search for 
a final position. Sully Prudhomme died three years ago. 
Recently there have been issued not only a posthumous col- 
lection of his earlier unpublished lyrics, 2 but also an excellent 
monograph by M. Zyromski, whose work as a paysagiste will 
be remembered. I shall endeavor to summarize the impres- 
sions received from a study of the complete poems, with sev- 
eral side-lights; and to clear up a little the main question as 

1 Oeuvres, Lemerre, 5 vols, (édition elzévirienne. ) Epaves, Lemerre, 
1908. Testament Poétique, 1904. Hémon, La Philosophie de Sully 
Prudhomme, 1907. Zyromski, Sully Prudhomme, 1907. Pierre Fons, 
Sully Prudhomme, 1907 (in "Les Célébrités d'aujourd'hui.") A 
bibliography is published in this last. 

2 Les Epaves. 

1] 195 

196 DARGAN [2 

to whether Sully Prudhomme could fuse and magnify head 
and heart, rank with the philosophic Olympians, blow through 
bronze as well as breathe through silver. 


The essential facts in his life are that he was a brooding 
school-boy, inept for action, fond always of books and medita- 
tion. That about his twentieth year he underwent a religious 
crisis, found himself feeble in health and began to write. 
Then he came under the influence of Leconte de Lisle and 
passed through the unfortunate love-affair which gave him the 
better part of his purely lyrical inspiration. The Stances et 
Poèmes of 1865 give ample proof of his sensibility, if less of 
his poetic maîtrise. This was much benefited, he has hand- 
somely acknowledged, by his brief connection with the Parnas- 
sians, who taught him to shun chevilles, compress the Lamar- 
tinian vagueness and seek above all le mot juste. 

From now on, the poet's career was declared, he abandoned 
his law studies, travelled in Italy, brought out two more elegiac 
volumes and came through the siege of 7 70 with health per- 
manently wrecked. 

Les Vaines Tendresses of 1875 may be considered by its 
very title to show what inner development was taking place. 
For ten years he had written chiefly from the memories of his 
wounded love. His Elvire had not become a Beatrice: she 
had remained a woman, desired and lost. If he was to strug- 
gle through, however maimed, to some sort of life and expres- 
sion, a wider feeling must move him. The nobility of his 
character is shown patently for those who have eyes to see in 
the fact that from an elegist he became a humanitarian. 

That these abstract terms meant something in his case 
appears from what follows. It is true that he did not mingle 
actively as a philanthropist or as anything else in contem- 
porary life. He was none the less nearly torn asunder by the 
problems of human destinies in the large. With Marcus 


Aurelius and Pascal for his guides, " avec des angoisses et des 
veilles " for his food of life, this poet spent the remainder of 
his days in trying to find out what we are, whither we are 
tending and principally what will help us go forward. The 
results, in so far as they appear in the long poems La Justice 
and Le Bonheur, will be recorded shortly. 

His fame, grounded on the earlier volumes, increased during 
these years. He was elected to the Academy in 1881 and 
received in 1901 the Nobel Prize, with which he established a 
prize, bearing his own name, for the younger generation of 


There are dozens of pieces in his first volume, expressing 
poignantly the whole gamut of disappointed passion from 
direct jealousy and baffled desire, through the moumfulness 
of memories, down to the more discreet though scarcely less 
moving hint of the happiness that might have been. Of 
bitter invective there is little; of resignation not a trace as 
yet. Especially in this first volume, there is occasional mièvre- 
rie and infelicity. The lyrics are usually quite simple in 
form, of a few stanzas only, sometimes showing a pretty use 
of the refrain, as in — 

" Ici-bas les lèvres effleurent 
Sans rien laisser de leur velours; 
Je rêve aux baisers qui demeurent 
Toujours . ." 

This is one instance of the eternal elegiac regret for fleet- 
ing joy, which naturally came to compound itself with his 
more personal melancholy. Other elements are the ever-de- 
feated yearning to grasp and sympathize with all things; the 
powerlessness of the dream which yet remains a habit; the 
sharply snapped link between the ideals of youth and the facts 
of manhood ; the disconcerted gaze over the domain of human 

198 DARGAN [4 

action, producing already the unappeasable cui bono question- 
ings; and chiefly that attachment of everything to the loved 
object, according to Stendhal's crystallization process, with 
the feeling that the loss of her meant the loss of all. There 
are many poems where these things are not directly considered, 
where they merely serve as a pensive background to some less 
intimate, equally poetic outburst. 

To analyze his reveries is easier than to bring out, except 
by too frequent quotation, the great charm and delicacy of his 
treatment. It is the brush of a bee's wing, the coloring of a 
wild-flower. One striking technical point is the handling of 
the last stanza and the last line. It is generally conceded that 
the last line is what makes the modern sonnet. Therein lies 
the epigrammatic sting, like the closing sentence of one of 
Burke's paragraphs or of the Maupassantian short story. 
Sully Prudhomme applies this principle with a craftsmanship 
effecting rather more than a suspension of interest, a veritable 
revelation at the close. 

Here is an example of such construction, expressing as well 
his soul-state during this period : — 

" Vous désirez savoir de moi 
D'où me vient pour vous ma tendresse-, 
Je vous aime, voici pourquoi: 
Vous ressemblez à ma jeunesse. 

Vos yeux noirs sont mouillés souvent 
Par l'espérance et la tristesse, 
Et vous allez toujours rêvant: 
Vous ressemblez à ma jeunesse. 

Je vous tends chaque jour la main, 
Vous offrant l'amour qui m'oppresse; 
Mais vous passez votre chemin . . . 
Vous ressemblez à ma jeunesse." 

The great simplicity of this is apparent. I find again and 
again poems of a Wordsworthian, almost a conversational 
phrasing, which lose nothing, for a foreigner at least, by their 


directness. Certainly poetic diction is less of an enclosed 
garden with the French than with us. At the same time, the 
Eomanticists and the Parnassians have sufficiently shown that 
the cult of the fatal word can be extended, if not to the orna- 
mental word, at least to the exotic, rare, subtly associative 
word, which seeks to reveal horizons. Sully Prudhomme too 
could do this on occasion — Le Cygne is an example. Yet his 
talent was not really descriptive. He has, for instance, few 
landscape effects. Nature for him was mainly an enigma who 
vouchsafed symbols, and Zyromski notices particularly the lily, 
the star, the clear sky. But the poet's heart-throbs usually 
subsist by the force of their independent rhythm. 

It should also be remarked that he naturally strength- 
ened and sobered his vocabulary as he matured. Similes lost 
their occasional touch of the conceit, and the sonnets espe- 
cially sweep to their close with a masterly impulsion of winged 

In his earlier manner, here are some of the admirable lines : 

" La pensée est pour vous un mal né d'une absence." 

(Les Epaves.) 
" Comment fais-tu les grands amours, 
Petite ligne de la bouche?" 

(Stances et Poèmes.) 
Again : 

" Je t'aime en attendant mon éternelle épouse." 

( Vaines Tendresses. ) 

" J'écoute en moi pleurer un étranger sublime 
Qui m'a toujours caché sa patrie et son nom." 

(Vaines Tendresses.) 
With a touch of preciosity : 

" J'honore dans la plume un souvenir de l'aile." 

(Stances et Poèmes.) 

To the violet: 

200 DARGAN [6 

" Fleur du soupir timide et du tremblant aveu, 
Tu dois être cherchée et par les yeux conquise, 
Des secrets ombrageux la confidente exquise, 
Fleur d'espoir, de pardon, de rappel et d'adieu! " 

{Les Epaves.) 
The constellation of the Great Bear : 

" O figure fatale, exacte et monotone, n 

Pareille à sept clous d'or plantés dans un drap noir.' ' 

{Les Epreuves.) 
For the happiness of poets : 

" Il leur faut une solitude 
Où voltige un baiser." 

( Vaines Tendresses. ) 

Among the conceits, one may hesitate at the idea of a 
mother as an " unique Danaïde " ; of a brain which is absorbed 
in dreams as a soaked sponge descends in the water; of a man 
who has made his shroud " avec un pan du ciel." — Illustrating 
the emotional torment of this period, I quote the splendid 
sonnet called Inquiétude : 3 

" Pour elle désormais je veux être si bon, 
Si bon, qu'elle se sache aveuglément chérie; 
Je ne lui dirai plus : ' Il faut,' mais ' Je t'en prie . . . * 
Et je prendrai les torts, lui laissant le pardon. 

Mais quel âpre murmure au fond de moi dit: ' Non! ' 
Contre un servile amour toute ma fierté crie. 
Non! je veux qu'étant mienne, à ma guise pétrie, 
Ce soit elle, et non moi, qui craigne l'abandon. 

Tantôt je lui découvre en entier ma faiblesse ; 
Tantôt, rebelle injuste et jaloux, je la blesse 
Et je sens dans mon cœur sourdre la cruauté. 

Elle ne comprend pas, et je lui semble infâme. 
Oh! que je serais doux si tu n'étais qu'une âme! 
Ce qui me rend méchant, vois-tu, c'est ta beauté." 

3 Les Epreuves. 



Passing from the strictly subjective lyrics, I will say at once 
that Sully Prudhomme's best work seems to me to lie in those 
fields where his personal melancholy is swayed to a larger 
expression, and his spirit, rising from its fruitless revery, 
comes into grave conscious strife with the ever-waiting prob- 
lems. The philosophic " méditation " tempered with senti- 
ment was his forte. 

I have thought of him as a metaphysician malgré lui, and 
he was that, inasmuch as love-poetry would have been his 
more natural utterance, had the inspiration for this been 
happy and durable. But contemning 

" Ces deuils voluptueux des vaincus sans combats," 

he was forced by his " sublime stranger " to enter the cold re- 
pugnant halls of philosophy, and he came out, as he perfectly 
admitted twenty years later, by the same door wherein he 
went, as far as a thorough intellectual or scientific explana- 
tion of the universe is concerned. Yet it would be a mistake 
to imagine that his passage through is bare of interest and 

Already in the poem called Intus of the first volume, there 
are heard the two warring voices, that of iconoclastic reason 
and that of love which cries, " Espère, ô ma sœur ! . . ." 
Later, the combat takes many forms. — Poetry is set a- 
gainst science in half-a-dozen pieces. Poetry is outwardly 
reconciled to science in the sonnets of Les Epreuves, in Le 
Zénith, which was inspired by a balloon ascension, and 
notably in one place where he divines that the great poetry of 
the future must grasp and go beyond scientific conclusions, 
must feel the symbolism of "many inventions," while ignor- 
ing their detail. He frequently apostrophizes the scientists — 
he seeks " a Newton of the soul." La Beauté 4 shows the joy 

4 Vaines Tendresses. 

202 DARGAN [8 

of the plastic artist as opposed to the suffering of the man of 
letters, who must endeavor to set up the dream of his rigid 
goddess in the full tide of realities. Still another aspect of 
the strife appears in Sur un vieux tableau. 5 This is a poign- 
ant depiction of the death of Christ set off by the indifference 
of men, the banality of the day's work, the composure of earth 
and heaven. La Voie Lactée 6 shows the loneliness of the 
stars, paralleling the loneliness of man. L'Une d' Elles 7 de- 
clares that a soul isolated in its Palace of Art, surrounded by 
luxuries, is yet unsatisfied. The parable L'Art et l'Amour p 
tells us that the wind of inspiration cannot linger with the 
flower of love which implores him, and that both die before 
evening. In Sur la Mort, 9 bewildered by the riddles and cry- 
ing out on dogmas, the poet abandons himself and a dead loved 
one to the laws of the universe — whatever they may be. 

The best of these vital lyrics are the sonnets — the noble 
sequence called La Finance, where the poet tries to discover a 
future for his country — the moving intimate sonnets of Lea 
Epaves, and especially those of Les Epreuves, where I think 
his most artistic mingling of thought and sentiment is to be 
found. As Lemaître has pointed out, nearly half of these 
are symbols or metaphors, with their application justly and 
grandly developed. In their four divisions of Amour, Doute, 
Beve, Action, they include such masterpieces as the Inquie- 
tude already quoted; the familiar Danaides; Rouge ou Noire, 
where he tosses on the tapis with Pascal for the chance of a 
divinity; Un Bonhomme, & remarkable presentment of Spi- 
noza ; La Fatalité, showing the necessity of the poet's love, the 
hopelessness of changing it for another happier one. Finally 
Un Songe and Homo Sum return to the sense of human fel- 
lowship, the rejoicing in labor, the call of action. As evincing 
his control of the form and as characteristic of his " âme en 
peine et de passage," I would mention especially the sonnet 
styled La Fontaine de Jouvence. 10 

5 Stances et Poèmes. 6 Les Solitudes. ''Les Solitudes; compare 
below Le Bonheur. 8 Vaines Tendresses. 9 Vaines Tendresses. 
10 Les Epaves. 



For his systematic conclusions in the matter of philosophy, 
we must turn to the two poems La Justice and Le Bonheur. 

The purport of La Justice is to ascertain whether there is 
a moral order in the universe — no less. Otherwise stated, it 
investigates whether the rhythm of nature accords with the 
aspirations of man, and seeks a higher harmony, an ultimate 
law. The argument unrolls itself in a series of eleven veilles, 
consisting of debates between the poet and certain " voices." 
The first half of the poem is an arraignment of nature as the 
enemy of justice, life and love. The evolutionary hypothesis, 
based on strife and tending to destruction, is adopted. In the 
soberest of styles, beautiful only with the cold beauty of 
thought, the poet tries to contemplate impassively a loveless 
world. The hard brilliant sonnets are answered by a voice 
which maintains more tenderly the value of dreaming, of a 
certain forgetfulness, and recommends an easy acceptation of 
love and of justice as a " cri du cœur." But the poet will 
have only the truth, and he finds it, following science, in the 
statement that death is the law of life between species. Each 

" Est un gouffre qui rôde, affamé par essence, 
Assouvi par hasard, et, par instinct, béant. 
Aveugle exécuteur d'un mal obligatoire, 
Chaque vivant promène écrit sur sa mâchoire 
L'arrêt de mort d'un autre, exigé par sa faim." 

Death is even the basis of love. — 

" L'Amour dresse, au milieu du charnier, son autel." 

The world began in a state of war, as it was long ago declared 
by Hobbes. The first right of man is a " brevet de bourreau." 
Morality is a later compact, still for egoistic ends. 

In the same species, the apparently finer impulses can all 

204 DARGAN [10 

be traced to self-interest. Nature is prudent, cunning, uses 
even the ideal attraction of sexual love as a veil for her own 
purposes. — 

"Dans l'œil indifférent des vierges, ô Nature! 
Tu fis bien d'allumer un céleste flambeau : 
Si fort que soit l'attrait d'un corps novice et beau, 
C'est grâce à l'Idéal que l'humanité dure. 

Leur regard, fourvoyé par l'ennui vers le ciel, 
Paraît, en se baissant, nous offrir des étoiles; 
Et nous nous approchons! Voilà l'essentiel." 

Between governments, war is complicated with trickery and 
military honor is founded on murder. It is a false abstrac- 
tion to speak of the brotherhood of man — men are often more 
remote from one another than from their dogs — and, who, 
pray, is my neighbor? The apparent reciprocity in cities 
continues to be based on need, and the strongest get what 
they can. In other planets, fatality points to like conditions 
merely more entangled by a possible divinity. 

As I understand the second part of the poem, called " Appel 
au Cœur," the facts of science are not to be answered by a 
heavenly escape or by resort to a vaporous faith. The facts 
are very much as they have been stated. Granted the aloof- 
ness of Nature, the material strife-basis, the whole evolution- 
ary doctrine — and in Le Bonheur he even goes so far as to 
grant the annihilation of earth and its inhabitants — there re- 
main the other facts, equally inexpugnable, that man has an 
inner order of his own which he has to some extent imposed 
upon his world, that mere intelligence, wrestling only with 
matter, leaves out of account one human specific difference, 
which is the persistent rule of conscience. It is very possible 
that Justice, outside of man, has no reason for being, and that 
we are foolish in applying human conceptions to God and 
Nature. But the evolutionary laws of the latter are none the 
less paralleled in the growth of the moral sense. Eemorse is 
then the voice of this wider nature scolding her heir, and 


" Nuire à l'humanité c'est rompre La spirale 
Où se fait pas à pas l'ascension morale 
Dont les mondes sont les degrés." 

Finally, the conscience working with the intelligence pro- 
duces sympathy. Kindliness and co-operation rear up the 
City, which is the highest expression of humanity — and the 
concluding definition is: 

" La Justice est l'amour guidé par la lumière." 

In order to compare this directly with Le Bonheur, the 
content of the latter poem may also be briefly given. The 
scene is laid in some unknown Paradise. Faustus, the hero, 
awakens there and finds his earthly love, Stella, by his side. 
The first part, Les Ivresses, is the apotheosis of " l'amour- 
passion." The lovers, as blessed as love can make them, 
wander through Elysian delights, which take the somewhat 
mundane manifestations of savors and perfumes, forms and 
colors, harmony and beauty. It is again a Palace of Art, where 
painters possess their ideal models and music soars un- 
restrained by sorrow. — " Il n'y tremble plus de soupir . . . 
Il n'y passe plus de frisson ... Il n'y tinte plus de san- 
glot," 1X This suggests what is the matter with it. The 
lovers are shrouded in a " linceul de joie." Aspiration is the 
highest soul-expression, but this very beautiful love of two is 
not the perfect aspiration, since it has no lendemain and hence 
no life. Desire and dreaming wear themselves out. The 
insistent Voix de la Terre, where mortals still suffer, comes 
as an interlude after every ecstasy. 

The second part, La Pensée, shows Faustus tormented by 
le mal de l'inconnu. The philosophers, ancient and modern, 
and the scientists speak; the whole parchment of human 
thought is unrolled. Pascal appears and seems to solve the 
unknown with the three key-words of charity, modesty before 

11 Compare the Limbes of Casimir Delavigne. 

206 DARGAN [12 

the first cause, and law. Stella, by some transfiguration, en- 
dues and symbolizes for Faustus these three attributes. Their 
love, crowned and fortified by knowledge, would now seem 
truly perfect. 

Still the Voices of the Earth come nearer, individualized in 
their woe. The idea that " l'amour-sacrifice " is the only 
complete happiness, in that it contains no inquietude or after- 
math, is exemplified by the descent of Faustus and Stella, 
after long hesitation, to relieve the world's burden. They 
tread upon an extinct earth, where " la Mort, l'aveugle Mort, 
l'infaillible Passeuse " has extended her reign and assures 
them that man has totally disappeared. The impressive de- 
scription of this manless world, its effect on the would-be 
benefactors, are followed by Stella's determination to give 
birth to a new and more enlightened race. Thus brusquely 
Le Bonheur ends. 

One may well hesitate as to the absolute ranking of these 
cosmic epics, when Brunetière and Anatole France, in review- 
ing them, have thought fit to abstain from a summarizing 
judgment. That they contain much deep thought, splendid 
lyrical interludes, some prosing and incoherence, and that they 
end in a fine faith may be granted. But Le Bonheur is an 
epic drama of three hundred pages, on the same scale and 
dealing with the same matters as Faust or Paradise Regained. 
It falls below these, of course. Few men living can be pre- 
pared to decide whether it is a huge failure per se, whether 
it is a succès d'estime, what posterity will prefer to do about 
it. The long poem is the critic's bane, and still more fre- 
quently the reader's. 

Happily, Sully Prudhomme's fame as a poet of meditation 
can rest on other evidence. At least one may say that before 
the magnificent range of thought and feeling developed in 
these poems, the insidious doubter had best bow his head. If 
he insists on raising it, perhaps he may question how far this 
man's failure to realize himself in " l'amour-passion " may 
have influenced his advocacy of " Pamour-sacrifice." Is it 


really by the withering of the individual that the world is 
more and more? Again, he admits the reign of law and the 
souffle of aspiration. What if we aspire beyond the law? 


That reverence before natural law, which seems to be his 
chief article of faith, finds manifestation as well in his ars 
poetica and his own technique. The Testament Poétique con- 
tains first a noble view of the poet's function, declaring that 
he should be neither 'an egoistic whiner nor a mere enter- 
tainer, but that he must guide, philosophize and befriend. It 
contains also certain uncompromisingly conservative views on 
versification. He will have none of the innovations of the 
symbolists. Victor Hugo carried rhythm as far as it could 
possibly be carried, and later novelties simply invade illegiti- 
mately the realms of prose or of music. The physiological 
laws of hearing and the law of least effort must apply to 
the two kinds of rhythm, regular and irregular. In regular 
rhythm, where the lines are of an equal number of syllables, 
the caesura must so fall that each line is divided either into 
two equal parts, or parts that shall be as little unequal as 
possible, having, that is, a greatest common divisor. In lines 
of an unequal number of syllables, the caesura must fall as 
nearly as possible in the middle. These principles are elab- 
orated with illustrations. Also he admits no rime plus que 
suffisante. He is willing to make some concessions about eye- 
rimes and hiatuses; but as a whole his intransigent academic 
attitude is clearly shown. 

He boasts that he himself has found " la vieille lyre " 
capable of answering every vibration of his heart. Technically 
he has introduced nothing. He has given his individual note 
to certain forms, such as the sonnet and that swallow-flight of 
song which consists of a few quatrains. 

This individual note is a quaver of hope over a ground-bass 
of defeat. Humanly speaking, as compared with most of his 

208 DARGAN [14 

contemporaries of song, it would be narrow not to observe 
that he is cast in a finer mould, and that he has remained in 
the fight, keeping a larger sense of the world-struggle. Of 
what others can that be said ? The Parnassians frankly repre- 
sent the poetry of evasion, frequently obtaining thereby only 
an aggravated Weltschmerz to which they lost the antidote. 
Gautier and Théodore de Banville are incomparable artists — 
but are they good alike at grave and gay ? Coppée, it is true, 
comes familiarly nearer the living heart of things. From "the 
standpoint of pure beauty-worship, however, — and certainly, 
whatever may be said of the other sixty-eight, it is impossible 
to abjure this fundamental way of constructing tribal lays — 
Sully Prudhomme bows to several of the masters named as 
well as to Verlaine, who, purely as a matter of voice, seems 
to me decidedly the most exquisite French singer after Hugo. 

But occasionally " the dominant's persistence " must make 
its sterner appeal. When we are in such moods, such plight, 
if you will, Sully Prudhomme may well be heard, with his 
doctrine of aspiration beyond but for this world, a world 
frankly taken as not very satisfactory to the sensitive and the 
thoughtful. Leaving out of account improbable heavens, he 
holds that the idealizing function of man must call for some 
fulfillment. " Avec ou sans certitude, lever les yeux c'est le 
propre de l'homme." 

The doubts of this developed creed which I suggested a few 
pages back mean only that the poet has not finally fixed the 
individual in the cosmos. When that is done, we shall have 
no further need of philosophers, and every man can be his own 
poet. While waiting, in one and the other capacity, Sully 
Prudhomme may be commended to the youth of America as 
embodying in nobler fashion than many what it should be 
our chief " disinterested endeavor to learn and propagate " — 
the modern cultural ethos of Europe. 



Hugo P. Thieme 

In reading through the complete poetical works of Victor 
Hugo one notices a number of violations of the rules of 
French verse. The first impression is of a colossal structure, 
the general appearance of which seems perfect, but on closer 
inspection slight flaws here and there may be detected, which 
do not, however, diminish the value of the whole. A full 
treatment of all the questions involved would require more 
space than could be allotted to this article. I have, there- 
fore, confined myself to mentioning some of the more general 
features, and to a detailed study of one or two points. 1 

Ehyme and General Verse-Structure. 

1. One notices from the very beginning the recurrence of 
certain rhymes which grow very monotonous. These vary 
in different works. In the " Odes et Ballades " and some of 
his earliest lyric volumes such words as gloire, victoire, etc., 
are particularly noticeable. He ceases to use these as the 
nature of his subject changes. The combination ombre — 
sombre, with variations continues throughout his works. 
This frequent repetition to the point of monotony was un- 
doubtedly one of the causes which induced mouern poets to 
break completely with the traditional rules of rhyme and to 
develop the present tendencies which allow so much freedom. 

1 This study is based on the Hetzel, Ne Varietur, (12mo) edition. 
The few volumes thus far published in the Edition de l'Imprimerie 
Nationale have also been consulted. 

1] 209 


210 THIEME [2 

2. An interesting study is that of Victor Hugo's use of 
foreign words in rhyme. He seemed to believe that any 
series of letters representing a certain sound in French must 
also represent the same in other languages. The pronunci- 
ation in many cases is wholly his own. 

Examples : Harrison — prison ; féal — White-Hall ; banc — St.- 
Albans; Stachan — camp; pardon — Huntingdon: De Manning 
— du cinq; effort — Clifford; remplis — Willis; Cheapside — 
régicide ; Glascow — au cou ; Hobbe — aube ; corset — water-clos- 
et; voyou — I love you; ad hoc — Grammadoch; des abus — 
codicibus; corrompus — habeas corpus; déchus — Jean Huss; 
taureau — Yungf ran ; Eigi — rugi, etc. 

3. In his earlier volumes there occur very few cases of 
overflow in which the rhyme has been weakened by the 
grammatical construction. 

Examples: (noun in rhyme followed in the next line by 
preposition plus noun) Penthousiasme . . . Du peuple; quel 
formidable . . . Epanouissement; clans un arrangement . . . 
De famille; (modal auxiliary plus infinitive, or auxiliary 
plus past participle) a pu . . . parler; peut-on . . . con- 
server; ne veut être . . . dit. 

In such works as the Légende des Siècles, which have 
always enjoyed the reputation of being perfect in classical 
structure, there are about six per cent, of such lines. When- 
ever these occur with any frequency they are accompanied 
by a large percentage of romantic lines. The table of 
statistics will show the relative frequency. 

4. Victor Hugo apparently did not guard against rhymes 
at the hemistich in any period of his career. He strictly 
followed the rules of the hemistich or cesura. I have found 
no case of mute e at the hemistich. Such words as : si, une, 
jusqu'à, il, ils, vous, nous (as subject or object), est, etc., are 
found occasionally. 

5. In proportion as Victor Hugo became adept in writing 
Alexandrines and in marshalling words, and more busy with 
the thought expressed (usually personal opinions) than with 

3] victor Hugo's versification" 211 

the technique of his verse, he became more and more negligent. 
This is noticeable : 

a. In the large number of purely prose passages; e. g., 
Legende, iv, p. 226, pp. 248-251 ; 

b. In the large number of lines in which the cacophony 
is more or less shocking; e. g., Années Funestes, p. 104: 

Il eût reforgé Rome; il eût mêlé l'exemple 

Du vieux sépulcre avec l'exemple du vieux temple. 

c. In the lines in which the grammar is twisted to fit the 
technical demands: e. g., Theatre en Liberté, p. 98: 

Il faut qu'elle soit haute assez pour sa voiture. 
Ah! quand il s'agit, l'homme étant aux vents jeté.*»" 

d. Beginning with his Légende Victor Hugo creates, in- 
vents, or introduces a line which seems to be unique in French 
verse, a line which it is difficult to define, but in which the 
noun or adjective at the hemistich is immediately followed 
by its adjective or noun; a line which invariably describes 
something mysterious, terrible, tragic, monstrous, or gloomy; 
e. g.: 

Et la difformité sublime des décombres. 
L'inhospitalité sinistre du fond noir. 
O semeur du sillon nébuleux, laboureur 
Perdu dans la fumée horrible de l'erreur. 
Quoique l'impénétrable énigme le vêtisse. 

Such lines are found in large numbers in his later works. 
This style of line in its development has been of unusual 

6. In studying Victor Hugo's poetry with the object of 
determining the frequency of his use of the romantic line, 
much depends upon the individual interpretation. The 
writer has taken the following stand : no line has been classed 
or scanned as a romantic line if it is found in classical verse 
with any degree of frequency. By this method it has been 
possible to determine the real status of the romantic line in 




Victor Hugo. An exhaustive scheme of elimination has been 
devised to make this feasible. 

The appended table shows the works in chronological order, 
with the number of Alexandrines in each volume, the number 
of romantic lines with percentage for each work, and the 
number of cases of close overflow (defined above in § 3). 
The second table gives the same data with distribution 
according to the nature of the works : drama, lyric poetry, 
satire, etc. A detailed discussion, accompanied by full refer- 
ences, of the points so far brought up, will shortly follow 
the present study. 


Name. No. of Lines. 

Odes et Ballades 3800 

Cromwell 6260 

Orientales 1550 

Hernani 2166 

Feuilles d'Automne 2065 

Roi S'Amuse 1662 

Chants du Crép 2219 

Esmeralda 112 

Voix Inter 2048 

Marion de Lorme 2025 

Ruy Blas 2250 

Rayons et Ombres 2444 

Burgraves 1885 

Châtiments 5167 

Contemplations 1 3370 

II 4430 

Légendes des S. 1 5400 

Paris 826 

Actes et Paroles '70-71.. 411 

'71-76.. 240 

Année Terrible 6050 

Légende des S. II 7000 

III 4600 

Religions. L'Ane 4500 

Art d'Etre Gr.-Père 3120 

man tic. 









































































Quatre Vents de l'Es. I.. 4100 160 

" II.. 2550 89 

Torquemada 2150 94 

Légende des S. IV 5300 303 

Théâtre en Liberté 3800 266 

Années Funestes 2600 190 

Dieu 5100 345 

Jumeaux 1450 32 

Toute la Lyre 1 3650 226 

" II 2550 161 

" III 2600 197 

Fin de Satan 5300 335 

Pape. Pitié Supr 3050 213 

Total, 119,800 6198 





























1814 .01 



Name. No. of Lines. 

Odes et Ballades 3800 

Orientales 1550 

Feuilles d'Aut 2065 

Chants du Crép 2219 

Voix Inter 2048 

Rayons et Om 2444 

Contempi. 1 3370 

II 4430 

Légende, 1 5400 

" II 7000 

" III 4600 

Art d'Etre Gr.-Père 3120 

Quatre Vents 1 4100 

" II 2550 

Légende, IV 5300 

Toute la Lyre, 1 3650 

" " " II 2550 

" " " III 2600 

Fin de Satan 5300 

Total 68,096 


c % 





















































































Cromwell 6260 312 

Hernani 2166 185 

Roi S'Amuse 1662 113 

Esmeralda 112 4 

Marion de L 2025 141 

Ruy Blas 2250 168 

Burgraves 1885 115 

Torquemada 2150 94 

Theatre en Lib 3800 266 

Jumeaux 1450 32 

Total 23760 1430 

Satiric, etc. 

Châtiments 5167 280 

Paris 826 33 

Religions. L'Ane 4500 185 

Actes et P 411 17 

" 240 20 

Année Ter 6050 325 

Années Fun 2600 190 

Dieu 5100 345 

Pape. Pitié S 3050 213 

Total 27,930 1708 






























































Verse Measure. 

As far as the writer has been able to ascertain no attention 
has heretofore been called to the occurrence of lines of 13, 
11, or 10 syllables in Victor Hugo's Alexandrines. In the 
Hetzel edition there are a considerable number of printer's 
errors and some of these give lines of 13 or 11 syllables. In 
the Edition de l'Imprimerie Nationale some of these errors 
have been corrected or changed, but unfortunately without 
a statement of the authority. But, apart from these typo- 

7] victor Hugo's versification 215 

graphical variations, there are a number of irregular verses 
attributable to Victor Hugo. 

I. Thirteen Syllable Lines. 
A. Assured cases. 

In the following lines there seems to be no doubt as to 
thirteen syllables: 

1. Cromwell, Acte II, Scene x, p. 132 : 

Surtout ne m'interromps pas! 

Tous ces airs-là, mon cher. 

2. Légende, i, Aymerïllot, p. 225 : 

Comte, ce bon duc Naymes expire de vieillesse. 1 

3. Théâtre en Liberté, L'Epée, fin de la Scène n; III, p. 

78-79 : 

Slagistri ! 

L'homme a le droit de toucher au cadran. 

4. Dieu, L'Ange, p. 188: 

Brigands que la nuit cache dans son vaste recel. 

5. Pitié Suprême, vin, p. 123 : 

Les maudits ont besoin de têtes inclinées 

Sur eux, sur leurs mystères et sur leurs destinées. 2 

1 Naymes occurs in two other lines and in both cases the s is 
retained. The line reads the same in the Imp. Nat. edition. 

2 Compare, in this connection : Toute la Lyre, in, La Corde 
d'Airain, vin, p. 156: 

Désirant tuer seulement qui leur déplaît. 
This poem was written in 1871 and the line which is probably 
the first example of an overflowing or run-over cesura found in 

216 THIEME [8 

B. Lines corrected in the Edition de VImprim. Nat. 

1. Les Contemplations, i, La Vie aux Champs, p. 18 : 

Mais le doux rire honnête ouvrant bouches et cœurs, 
Qui montrent en même temps des âmes et des perles. 3 

2. Légende, il, Les Quatre Jours d'Elciis, p. 230: 

Donc, viatique, psaumes et vêpres, scapulaires. 4 

3. Légende, m, La Rose de V Infante, p. 46 : 

Et le lugubre roi sourit de voir groupées 

Sur quatre cents navires quatrevingt mille épées. 6 

C. Doubtful Cases. 

1. In the following line ruine must be counted as dis- 
syllabic. The word occurs more than fifty times and in 
every other case is trisyllabic. 

Les Rayons et les Ombres, Le 7 Août 1829, p. 29 : 
O palais, sois béni, soyez bénie, ô ruine. 8 

French poetry, has undoubtedly served as a type for the many lines 
of the same structure found in de Banville and Verlaine. It has 
the required number of syllables. 

3 Imp. Nat. montre. * imp. Nat. psaume. 

5 Imp. Nat. vaissaux. 

6 In the same work, pp. 27, 45, 202, 212, 223: 

Hélas, s'attache aux rois comme à toute ruine. 
Car la ruine même autour de sa tristesse. 
Sent qu'il n'est déjà plus qu'une tombe en ruine. 
Le nid qui jase au fond du cloître ruiné. 
Cette mousse qui pend aux siècles ruinés. 

Les Bur graves, p. 88, 98: 

Vas-tu, sur ce donjon que tu dois ruiner. 

Sont dispersés sans doute au vent de ma ruine. 

9] victor Hugo's versification 217 

2. In the following line " pion " is used as a monosyllable. 
Nouns in -ion are elsewhere dissyllabic. 

Art d'Etre Grand-père, Aux Enfants Gâtés, p. 170 : 
Quand, ainsi qu'on remue un pion sur l'échiquier. 

3. The following lines, if read according to the text, con- 
tain thirteen syllables, but in each a slight change gives the 
required number of syllables : 

Chants du Crépuscule, p. Ill : 

Vent fatal qui confond les meilleures et les pires. 7 
Esmeralda, p. 158 : 

Enfants! pas de querelles, aujourd'hui tout est joie. 8 

Ruy Blas, p. 167: 

Rien! pas d'armes! Une épée au moins! Marquis tu 
railles. 9 

Les Rayons et les Ombres, p. 159 : 

Par eux-mêmes amené dans l'ornière ou nous sommes. 10 

La Légende, i, p. 279, 285: 

Je sois vaincu, détruit, aboli, ruiné. 

La ruine est promise à tout ce qui s'élève. 

Other examples may be found as follows, all showing the dis- 
syllabic use of ruine: 

Paris, pp. 138, 144-6-7-8-9, 152, 161. Année Terrible, pp. 107, 131, 
252, 262-3, 281. Légende, n, pp. 59, 67, 153, 168, 285; in, pp. 21, 
47, 82, 241. Religions, pp. 99, 110. Art d'Etre Grand-père, p. 72. 
Quatre Vents, i, pp. 192, 256; n, pp. 11, 220, 237. Jumeaux, pp. 
162, 184, 193, 240. Années Funestes, pp. 6, 169. Légende, iv, p. 
55. Théâtre en Liberté, p. 178. Toute la Lyre, I, pp. 48, 147, 243; 
II, pp. 80, 191. 

7 Read meilleurs. 8 Read querelle. 

'Read arme. 

10 euœ-même; the same change in Toute la Lyre, I, p. 207 : 

D'ouvrir la porte eux-même(s) aux colères en bas. 

218 THIEME [10 

Légende, ni, p. 200: 

Aiguilles, pics de neiges et cimes souveraines. 11 

II. Eleven- Syllable Lines. 
A. Assured Cases. 

1. Esmeralda, Acte IV, Scène i, p. 180; 

Etes-vous prête ? 

A quoi? 

Prête à mourir. 


2. Les Contemplations, I, A propos d'Horace, p. 41 : 

Ces diacres, ces bedeaux dont le groin renifle. 

3. Religions, Conclusion, p. 71 : 

Qui n'est pas lui, m'indigne, et n'a pas droit d'être. 

4. Torquemada, Acte II, Scène il, p. 122 : 

Et madame, aux pieds de vos altesses. Soit. 

5. Les Années Funestes, xxxin, p. 88: 

Le monde, ainsi aux temps de Claude et Comène. 

B. Lines corrected in the Edition de VImprim. Nat. 

1. Marion de Lorme, Acte V, Scène vu, p. 189 : 

Avoir fait ton malheur, va, c'est un grand remord. 
Ne me laisse pas, pardonne-moi, Marie! " 

2. La Légende, i, Montfaucon, p. 171 : 

Quel est le moyen de régner? dit Philippe. 13 

11 Kead neige. 

12 Imp. Nat. Ne me le laisse pas. 

"Imp. Nat. Quel est le moyen donc. Victor Hugo never used 
moyen except as a word of two syllables. 

11] Victor Hugo's versification 219 

C. Doubtful Cases. 

1. Legende, u, Welf, p. 201 : 

Ouvre-moi. Je suis roi d'ArZe aux verts coteaux. 14 

2. Légende, n, Les Catastrophes, p. 241 : 

Seule utile lueur qui sort du despote. 15 

III. Ten-Syllable Lines. 

The following two ten-syllable lines are found in L'Art 
d'Etre Grand-père : 

1. L'Art d'Etre Grand-père: Printemps, p. 24: 

J'entends dans le jardin les enfants rire. 

2. L'Art d'Etre Grand-père: Un Manque, p. 27: 

Dans l'admiration de ces jolis doigts roses, 
Leur compare, en toutes sortes de choses, 
Ses grosses mains à lui. . . . 

IV. Words used as Monosyllables or Dissyllables. 

A. Such words as hier, diable have always been used by 
poets both as monosyllables and as dissyllables. The follow- 
ing words have generally a definite value, but in Victor Hugo 
they are found as monosyllables or dissyllables : 

1. "août" 

Le quatorze juillet, le dix août, ces journées (1), 

Actes (1871-76), p. 82. 

"Arle may be written Arles, e. g., p. 202: 

Arles t'attend. Je t'offre en ma ville latine. 
15 The subjunctive " sorte " is undoubtedly the correct form and is 
the one found in the Ed. de l'lmp. Nat. 

220 THIEME [12 

Or, en juin, la Lusace, en août, les Moraves (2), 

Légende, il, p. 66. 

C'était le sept août, ô sombre destinée! (2), 

Les Bayons, p. 23. 

2. "Juan." 

Et voilà que don Juan pétrifié pâlit ( 1 ) , 

Contemplations, I, p. 29. 
D'Eve au cloître, et que fuir don Juan dans Origene ( 1 ) , 

Religions, p. 113. 
Fait toute la grandeur de don Juan athée (2), 

Quatre Vents, n, p. 194. 
Et don Juan! — C'est Dante et Beatrix! — Le lierre (2), 

Légende, iv, p. 20. 

3. " jaguar" 

Le mandrille au jaguar, le perroquet à l'aigle (1), 

Art d'Etre . . . , p. 47. 
Aux jaguars, aux lynx, aux tigres des forêts (2), 

Légende, il, p. 224. 

4. " miasme." 

Comment le parfum pur devint miasme fétide ( 1 ) , 

Légende, ni, p. 16. 
Mêlé dans leur sépulcre au miasme insalubre (2), lb., p. 116. 

5. "moelle." 

Trouve peu d'os à moelle et peu d'auteurs à sève (1), 

Religions, p. 103. 
Le sang profond du cœur, la moelle des os ( 2 ) , 

Année Terrible, p. 241. 

6. " ruisseau." 

Océan aux ruisseaux et soleil aux planètes (1), 

Année Ter., p. 190. 

Comme au sombre océan arrive tout ruisseau ( 1 ) , 

Légende, iv, p. 125. 

Comme un ruisseau vil est pire qu'un torrent (2), 

Année Ter., p. 25. 

B. Tris3 r llabic words used as dissyllables: 
1. " luncheon." 

Devant les grecs faisant, dans un luncheon nocturne, 

Religions, p. 28. 

13] victor Hugo's versification 221 

2. " prairials." 

Après ces messidors, ces prairials, ces frimaires, 

Châtiments, p. 117. 

V. Hiatus (Mute e + oui or a Vowel). 

In the following list of examples it will readily be seen 
from the variety of cases that mute e + oui or a vowel counts 
as one or two syllables. 

A. Mute e -f- oui = two 

Monsieur! Wilmot devrait mourir de honte, oui, Cromwell, p. 68. 
Une auréole. Oui, de la couleur du sang, Ib., p. 253. 

Comment as-tu besoin qu'on te réponde: oui? Ib., p. 286. 

Qui n'ose dire non et ne peut dire oui, Voix Inter., p. 187. 

Libre? Oui . . . Prenez-moi pour frère, pour appui, 

Marion de Lorme, p. 15. 
Ah! malheureuse. Oui, malheureuse, en effet, Ib., p. 110. 

Soyons l'immense Oui (6 syl. line), Contemplations, n, p. 160. 

Entendra ce tombeau dire à voix haute: Oui, Année Terrible, p. 13. 
Tu viens d'incendier la Bibliothèque? Oui. Ib., p. 220. 

Non aux basques de Oui toujours se suspendit, Religions, p. 159. 
Un petit prince est-il un petit homme? Oui. 

Art d'Etre Grand-père, p. 159. 
Etes-vous sombre? Oui, vous l'êtes (8 syl. line), Ib., p. 176. 

Qui pourrait dire non? Qui pourrait dire Oui, Quatre Vents, p. 211. 
Vraiment? Connaissez- vous son écriture? Oui, Jumeaux, p. 186-7. 
Suis-je un homme? Ai-je un nom? Seul je peux dire Oui, 

Ib., p. 221. 
C'est qu'on me pilera sans que je dise Oui Ib., p. 224. 

Notre voisine? Oui. Va chez elle. Avec toi, Légende, ni, p. 199. 
Ici, spectre ! Viens là que je te parle. Oui, Années Funestes, p. 28. 
Dieu vit. Le Oui du jour et le Non de la nuit, Dieu, p. 171. 

Du vrai, le oui du non, le rayon de la foudre, 

Toute la Lyre, i, p. 266. 
Dieu! Rêve! Oui finit par ressembler à non, Ib., in, p. 123. 

Il se dit par moments: C'est moi qui marche; oui, Ib., in, p. 200. 

222 THIEME [14 

B. Mute e -\- oui = one syllable. 

De l'apocalypse. Oui. Cromwell sur notre tête, Cromwell, p. 345. 
Doña Sol de Silva? parle. Oui. — Pourquoi? Pour rien, 

Hernani, p. 12. 
Vous êtes donc le diable? Oui, duègne. Entrez ici, Ib., p. 14. 
O Marion de Lorme! Oui! La beauté du jour, 

Marion de Lorme, p. 27. 
Il est temps de dormir, madame, Oui, c'est notre heure, Ib., p. 33. 
Deux mots. A l'épée? Oui. Veux- tu le pistolet, Ib., p. 46. 

De renoncer au duel? Mais c'est très sage. Oui, mais, Ib., p. 52. 
Il fait grace? Oui, le roi. Mais non le cardinal, Ib., p. 62. 

De la Rochelle. Oui, da! J'approuve le saint siège, Ib., p. 123. 
Je vous la rends. Vraiment! une épée! Oui, ma foi, Ib., p. 150. 
Ma femme! Oui, votre femme! Allons, je n'en suis pas, 

Ruy Blas, p. 144. 
Ma joie! Oui, je saurai terminer mon courage, Bur graves, p. 67. 
C'est horrible, oui, brigand, jacobin, malandrin, Contempi., i, p. 67. 
De charrue? Oui, je veux creuser le noir limon, Ib., p. 202. 

Voilà ce que m'offrit l'histoire. Oui, c'est cruel, Ib., il, p. 59. 
Bonhomme. — Oui, je sais bien, parce que j'ai des membres, 

Légende, i, p. .72. 
Et ces dieux ont raison. Phtos écume. Oui, dit-il, Ib., p. 87. 

Prêtre! Oui, je suis athée à ce vieux bon Dieu-là, Année Ter., p. 68. 
Dit Jorge. Oui, s'il revient? dit Materno l'Hyène, 

Légende, il, p. 37. 
Un pauvre oui. Jamais roi dans sa coupe ne but, Ib., p. 196. 

Dit l'âne. Oui. C'est mon nom et je l'ai mérité, Religions, p. 79. 16 

C. Miscellaneous Examples. 

Chassons-le/ Arrière tous! il faut que j'entretienne, 

Cromwell, p. 129. 

Puisqu'il s'agit de hache ici, que flernani, Hernani, p. 172. 

Votre père Jienri, de mémoire royale, Marion, p. 136. 

Qu'après tout on est fils d'Henri quatre, et Bourbon, Id., p. 137. 

10 Further examples may be found as follows : Quatre Vents, pp. 
181, 196, 207, 242, 243, 250; Torquemada, 20, 26, 33, 152; Jumeaux, 
218, 222; Théâtre en Liberté, 34, 61, 88, 130, 137, 167, 180, 214; 
Années Funestes, 57, 67, 110; Dieu, 178. 

15] victor Hugo's versification 223 

Ce Gaspard? Ce Didier? Je crois qu'oui. Les derniers, 

Marion, p. 146. 
Ciel! Qu'as- tu répondu? J'ai dit que oui, mon maître, 

Ruy Blas, p. 150. 
O libre ¿Zoffmann, planant dans les rêves fougueux, 

Religions, p. 118. 

VI. Que and ce in Stressed Position. 

Aside from these irregularities or licenses which have done 
so much to pave the way for the modern tendencies in French 
verse, there are lines which pointed out to the younger poets 
new possibilities in the division of the Alexandrine. The 
romantic divisions of which 444, 453, 345, 534 are the most 
common, are now well known and practised, more or less, 
by all poets. 

To place a mute e in the stress or " coupe," thus giving it 
the value of any other vowel, had not been done before. 
Thus, when we meet lines in which " que " or " ce " are in 
a stressed position, we have practically every liberty demanded 
by modern poets. The Alexandrine is now reduced to twelve 
syllables with no restriction in the interior of the line. The 
following lines are very unusual and interesting from the 
technical structural point of view: 

C'est qu'il est un des cœurs que, déjà sous les cieux, 

Hélas! de quelque nom que, broyé sous l'essieux, 
N'est-ce donc pas assez que, soldats et finance, 
Sur ce, faisons la soupe, et repassons nos rôles, 
Un des jeunes seigneurs que, de cette fenêtre, 
A la reine. Un seigneur que, de la part du roi, 
Donne donc à ta ville, ami, ce grand exemple 
Que, si les marchands vils n'entrent pas dans le temple, 

Rayons, p. 132. 
Pour que, puisant la vie au grand centre commun, Ib., p. 172. 

Que, l'épée à la main, seul, brisant une porte, Burgraves, p. 88. 
Magistrats! maintenant que, reprenant du cœur, Châtiments, p. 15. 
Va, maudit! ce boulet que, dans les temps stoïques, Ib., p. 34. 
Sur ce, les charlatans prêchent leur auditoire, Ib., p. 274. 







Marion, p 

. 45. 




y Blas. 




i P- 


224 THIEME [16 

Frémissent. C'est ainsi que, paisible et superbe, Ib., p. 318. 

Et, sur ce, les pédants en chœur disent: amen, Contempi., i, p. 66. 
Ces hydres que, le jour, on appelle des arbres, Ib., n, p. 151. 

Depuis quatre mille ans que, courbé sous la haine, Ib., n, p. 190. 
Du parapluie, afin que, s'il tombe trop d'eau, Quatre Vents, I, p. 206. 

When we consider the number of Alexandrines written by 
Victor Hugo and the conditions under which he often wrote, 
as well the nature of the subjects, and note from the table 
of statistics the relative rarity of irregularities, we realize 
that his technical art was and will remain the model for the 
French poets of the future. 



William A. Stowell 

Bachelier, Old French bacheler, is usually supposed to 
go back to a Folk-Latin baccalaris, of which I know no 
occurrence. There are, however, in South-French cartularies, 
numerous examples of a form baccalarius, a term applied to 
certain peasants, and of a form baccalaria, referring to a 
kind of landed tenure. Schéler's suggestion 1 that bachelier 
may perhaps be related to Latin vacca through a derived form 
applied to property connected in some way with cattle has not 
met with general acceptance, on account both of the phonetic 
obstacle offered by the initial sound of the word, and of the 
absence of a demonstration of the semasiological filiation; 
yet no other etymon has been proposed which offers greater 
claims to favor, so that the general opinion of scholars seems 
to accord with the statement of the Dictionnaire général 2 
that the origin of the word is uncertain. It may therefore 
be useful to assemble the examples of the Latin words, and 

1 Diet. ef etymologic fr., s. v. bachelier. This derivation is already 
proposed in the first edition (1862), and is still maintained in the 
third (1888) ; it is referred to by Murray, N. E. D., s. v. bachelor. 
Kôrting, in the third edition of his Worterbuch der rom. Spr. 
(1907), no. 1134, still looks on this etymology as at best a pis 
aller, but in the Worterbuch der frz. Spr. (1908), s. v. bachelier, 
he has adopted it, and posits for baccalarius the successive mean- 
ings: owner, of a cow; small peasant proprietor; young peasant; 

2 s. v. bachelier. Those who have made serious attempts to ex- 
plain the word without recurring to vacca would connect it with 
the Celtic, but no satisfactory Celtic etymon has been suggested. 
See Thurneysen, Keltoromanisches, Halle, 1884, pp. 38-39. 

1] 225 


226 STOWELL [2 

to see whether the context and the geographical distribution 
of the material cast any light on their disputed meanings 
and on their possible connection with bachelier. 

So far as I know, the list which follows includes all ex- 
amples that have been found of baccalaria (a tenure), and 
examples of baccalarius, baccalaria (adjective or substantive 
used of persons) from the only texts known to contain the 
word. The passages preceded by an asterisk have not to my 
knowledge been previously referred to in this connection. 3 

I. Baccalaria, a Form of Feudal Real-Estate 

( 1 ) Ego, Godefredus, . . . comes, . . . cedo ... ad monasterium 
. . . curtem meam indominicatam, quae vocatur Igeracus, cum 
ecclesia in honore S. Martini constructa, et baccalariis indo- 
minicatis, et mansis servilibus: mansum unum, ubi Blcuinus manet, 
mansum ubi Ingilbertus manet, mansum ubi Ictarius manet, etc. 
Cartulaìre de Beaulieu, ch. 3, p. 10 (A. D. 866). 

(2) Cedimus . . . ecclesiam nostrani . . . cum ipsa bacallaria 
... et cum ipsa vinea quae est in Blandina. 

Ibid., ch. 171, p. 238 (A. D. 877). 

(3) Nos, . . . Sicardus et uxor mea, . . . cedimus . . . ecclesiam 
nostrani . . . cum curte, et orto, et exitu, et viridario, et cum 
ipsa baccalaria integra quae ibidem pertinent. Et . . . ilium 
mansum integrum ubi Bertemarus servus noster visus est manere 
... et alium integrum mansum ubi Sicardus visus est manere, . . . 
Hos mansos constructos cum curtibus et ortis et exitibus, cum 
viridariis, cum campis, pratis, pascuis, adjacentiis, silvis, sepibus, 
cum exitibus et regressibus, viis, aquis, aquarumve decursibus, cultos 
sive incultos quaesitos vel quod adquirendum est, omnia et ex 
omnibus, quantumcumque ad ipsam ecclesiam una cum ipsa 
baccalaria, et ad ipsos mansos adspicit . . . cedimus. 

Ibid., eh. 17, p. 40 (A. D. 879-884). 

(4) Cedo . . . villain meam, . . . cum ipsa bacallaria seu 
cum ipsis mansis: mansum ubi Golf ardus visus est manere; mansum 
ubi Garardus manet, etc. 

Ibid., ch. 152, p. 210 (A. D. 891). 

3 The cartularies referred to in this paper have all been published. 
Specific references to the editions will be found in the Bibliographie 
générale des cartulaires français par Henri Stein. Paris, 1907. 


(5) Cedo . . . mansum ubi Ermenricus manet, cum ipsa vinea 
mea dominicana, ... et alium mansum ubi Magnolenus visus est 
manere; in eodem loco bacallaria mea indominicaria; et ipsi 
mansi vel ipsa bacallaria est in loco quae dicitur Vadecia. 

Ibid., eh. 63, p. 112 (A. D. 893). 

(6) Cedimus . . . ecclesiam nostram . . . cum ipsa bacallaria, 
et mansis ad ipsam ecclesiam pertinentibus : mansum ubi Arlaldus 
visus est manere, ... et alium mansum ubi Germanus visus est 
manere. . . Cedimus etiam casam nostram dominicariam, cum ipsa 
bacallaria, cum pratis, silvis, molendinis, etc. 

Ibid., ch. 52, p. 95 (A. D. 895). 

(7) Cedo . . . curtem meam . . . cum casa mea dominicaria, ubi 
ego ipse praesenti tempore visus sum manere, cum verdiariis et 
pratis dominicis, et cum ipsa bacallaria, qui est in pago Limo- 
vicino, et . . . mansum ubi Adalricus visus est manere. 

Ibid., ch. 147, p. 202 (A. D. 916). 

(8) Cedimus ad monasterium . . . capella nostra, quae est fun- 
data in honorem S. Petri, cum ipsa baccalaria indominicata, cum 
ipso prato, et cum ipso brolio indominicato, et cum ipso manso qui 
est de ipsa capella, ipsum mansum ubi Avidus visus est manere, et 
alium mansum ubi Benjamin visus est manere, ... et alium man- 
sum ubi Amardus visus est manere, ipsa capella, cum ipsis mansis 
supradictis, cum terris cultis et incultis, et cum ipsa plantada, 
pratis, silvis, aquis, etc. 

Ibid., ch. 38, p. 72 (A. D. 926). 

( 9 ) Cedimus . . . casam indominicatam ubi ipse Uguo visus fuit 
manere, cum ipso bosco vel cum alio brolio, cum ipsa bacallaria, 
cum ipsis vineis prope adhaerentibus, cum pratis, aquis, aquarumve 
decursibus, cum molendino, cum manso ubi Leoterius manet; et alium 
mansum quern Ademarus tenet. 

Ibid., ch. 109, p. 162 (A. D. 968). 

(10) Baccalaria m meam de Camairaco dimitto Deo . . . ita 
ut corpus meam sepeliatur, si ad ipsum locum portatus fuero. 

Ibid., ch. 95, p. 148 (After 1000). 

(11) Dimitto . . . medietatem de bacallaria de Monte Catfredo. 

Ibid., ch. 62, p. Ill (xi or xn cy.). 

(12) In the same cartulary, ch. 101 ("Brevem de exemptis quae 
vicarii de Favars habent in terra S. Petri " ) , the concluding passage 
is: De terris vero absis, si homo adiquid fecerit, judex recipiat 
quod exierit, et, si censum solvere voluerit vicariis, recipiant, et, si 
reddere noluerit censum, reddit illis tertiam partem de hoc quod 

228 STOWELL [4 

de terra exitum fuerit, et Beato Petri duas. In illis rusticis ubi 
quaerere soient opera, habent unam diem cum bovibus de illis homi- 
nibus qui boves habuerint, quamdiu baccalariam facerint, et 
non plus. Si battalia aut judicium fermaverint cum aliquo, et si 
propter hoc redemptionem dederint, non habeat partem vicarius nec 
judex. Si sacramentum fermaverint cum lege, et redemptionem 
dederint, tertiam partem illis reddant. 

Ibid., eh. 101, p. 155 (xn cy.). 

*(13) Iste Godafredus comes, filius Radulfi comitis, . . . dedit 
. . . villani suam, cum ecclesia S. Martini, cum baccalariis, et 
quinqué mansis servilibus. 

Ibid., eh. 193, p. 270 (Date: ?). 

*(14) Cedimus . . . tres mansos et duas bordarías in villa . . . 
et villam nostram quae dicitur Belna, domum scilicet propriam, 
cum baccalaria, pratis. 

Cartulaire de Tulle, eh. 124 (A. D. c925). 

(15) Medietatem de ipsa curte et ipsum eastellum, cum bacca- 
laria dominicaria, et duos mansos. 

Will of St. Géraud d'Aurillac; Migne, Pat. hat., cxxxin, col. 
672 (A. D. 999). 

(16) Breve de comunia sancti Salvatoris de Concas. . . A Bello- 
monte, aecclesia cum mansos xini vel cum bacal la rias. 

Cartulaire de Conques, eh. 478 (xi or xii cy.). 

(17) Dono quoque in villa de Beine duos mansos . . . cum omni- 
bus que ad ipsos mansos pertinent: sunt etiam due appendarie 
cum omnibus que ad ipsos respiciunt; est dimidia appendaria que 
vocatur Trelia, cum omnibus que ad ipsam medietatem respiciunt; 
dono etiam bacallariam que est in ipsa villa, cum campis et 
vineis et omnibus que ad ipsum abodum pertinent. 

Cartulaire de Sauœillanges, eh. 400 (Date: ?).* 

* In certain cartularies (La) Baccalaria occurs as the name of a 
place. I give here citations from every text in which I have found 
occurrences of this use. 

* ( 1 ) Galterius de La Bachalaria et f rater meus Aimericus, 
d[amus] dimidium mansum in villa La Bachalaria. (Foot-note: 
"La Bachellerie, 26 habit. Salon"). 

Cartulaire d'Uzerche, ch. 209 (x cy.). 

* ( 2 ) Petrus de Noalius . . . dedit . . . , in manso Petri Radulfi 
de la Bachalaria, quatuordecim sextaria siliginis, quinqué avenae. 

5] NOTES ON "bachelier" 229 

II. Baccalarius, Baccalaria, Adjective or Substantive 
applied to Persons 

In an enumeration of the domains possessed by the abbey 
of St. Victor of Marseilles, made during the bishopric of 
Vuadalde, 813-818, the following and other similar mentions 
occur : 

( 1 ) Colonica in Campania. Stephanus, colonus. Uxor Darà. 
Dominicus, filius baccalarius. Martina, filia baccalaria. 
Vera, filia annorum XV. Ermesindis, filia annorum VII. Aprilis, 

Marseille: Cartulaire de St.-Victor, vol. n, p. 633. 

(Cf. p. 519, Table fr., which says that this is La Bachèlerie in 
St.-Germ.-les-Ver. ) 

Ibid., ch. 998 (A. D. 1096). 

* ( 3 ) Damus ... in villa de Chambaret . . . mansum del Chas- 
tenet de Fillis, mansum Donet de Cuus, quartam partem de vineis 
de La Bachelaria. 

Ibid., ch. 481 (A. D. cll07). 

* ( 4 ) In manso La Terrassa, quinqué solidos ; in manso La Bacha- 
laria, viginti solidos. (Cf. p. 519, Table fr., which says that this is 
La Bachèlerie, Salon.) 

Ibid., ch. 1022 (cxin cy.) 

* ( 5 ) Geraldus Stephanus dedit . . . duodecim denarios quos 
dedit Petrus Aimoinius in manso de La Baccalaria. 

Cartulaire de Tulle, ch. 247 (A. D. cll04). 

* (6) Bordaría Duranni de la Grelleira, in martio, IIII den. 
Bordaria della Bachallaria. Bordaría della Poncharía Alegre, in 
martio, IIII den.; in augusto, I sext. vini, et asinum. 

Cartulaire de Vigeois, ch. 162, p. 118 (A. D. 1108-1110). 

* ( 7 ) Do etiam bordariam de La Bachallaria totum quod habeo 
vel alii per me. 

Ibid., ch. 172 (A. D. 1108-1110). 

* ( 8 ) Excepta bordaria Stephani Willelmi quam ipse tenet et 
bordaria La Bachallaria. 

Ibid., ch. 341 (A. D. 1165-1171). 

*(9) Froterius . . . dimisit . . . Ili mansos et unam bordariam 

230 STOWELL [6 

(2) Inibi, colonica in Nono. Oisefredus, colonus. Justinianus, ad 
requirendum. Murtesinda, filia baccalaria. Donatus, ad requi- 
rendum. Godobertus, baccalarius. 

Ibid., p. 633. 

(3) Colonica in Cenazello. Dructaldus, accola, uxore extranea. 
Dructomus, filius. Dutberta, filia baccalaria. Drueterigus, 
filius ad scola. 

Ibid., p. 637. 

(4) Colonica in Asaler. Candidus, colonus. Uxor Dominica. 
Celsus, filius, ad requirendum. Mariberta, filia baccalaria . . . 
Gennarius, filius, vervecarius. 

Ibid., p. 637. 

(5) Colonica inibi. Colonus, Martinus. Uxor Primovera. Fe- 
licis, filius baccalarius. Deidonus, filius baccalarius. Leo- 
bertga, filia baccalaria. Martina, filia annorum V. Infans ad 

Ibid., p. 637. 

(6) Colonica ad Ulmes. Fulcomares . . . Uxor Vuteria. Eade- 
bodus, filius baccalarius. Dominicus, filius baccalarius. Do- 
minildis, filia baccalaria. Fulcorad, annorum VI. Beto, filius 

et in Bachallaria tres bordarías et in villa de Anglars IIII mansos. 

Ibid., ch. 10 (Date: ?). 

*(10) In villa que vocatur la Bachalaria, in manso qui vocatur 
li Boures. ( Foot-note : " Bachellerie, village sur la Briance, . . . 
commune de St.-Hilaire.") 

Cartulaire d'Aureil, ch. 282 (Before 1140). 

* ( 1 1 ) Hoc est feudum presbiterale de ecclesia Sancti Juliani de 
Larunt: mansum de fonte Arnaldi, mansum de Bachalaria; etc. 
(Foot-note: " St.-Julien-le Petit, commune du canton d'Eymoutiers." ) 

Ibid., ch. 303 (Before 1140). 

(12) Ego Kodbertus filius Bodberti Isalgari et Stephanie dono 
. . . fevum et vindemiam mei mansi de Bacallaria qui est in villa 
Deuslet. (Cf. Table gén., s. v. Bacallaria, which locates this as a 
dependency of Valuéjol, dep. of Cantal ) . 

Cartulaire de Conques, ch. 396 (A. D. 1065-1087). 

(13) Turpin, bishop of Limoges, is quoted by Bernard de Guy 
as saying: Villain quae vocatur Baccalaria, quae decern in se mansos 
continere probatur. 

Philippe Labbe, Nov. Bibl. Mss., n, 278; cited by Deloche. 



annorum V. Ingomares, filius annorum III. Romildis, filia an- 
norum II. 

Ibid., p. 639. 

(7) Colonica in Cassaneto. Teobertus, colonus. Uxor Natalia. 
Teoberta, filia annorum V. Offrasia, annorum MI . . . Magincus, 
baccalarius. Rodolandus, baccalarius. Rodofredus, clericus. 

Ibid., p. 640. 

(8) Colonica in Mairolas. Rodolfus, mancipium. Uxor Fromul- 
dis. Aulildis, filia annorum X. Rocara, filia annorum VIII. 
Dadebertus, baccalarius. 

Ibid., p. 640. 

(9) Colonica in Primo Capa. Giso, mancipium. Uxor Muscula. 
Adaltrudis, filia baccalari a. Ermentrudis, filia baccalari a. 
Tomas, filius ad scola. Ilius, filius annorum VIII. Arsinda, 
annorum V . . . Ermesindis, cum infantes suos. Dominici, verbe- 
carius. Maurobertus, mancipium. Uxor Superantia. Mauregotus, 
filius baccalarius. Scaemenus, baccalarius. 

Ibid., p. 642. 

(10) Colonica in Caladio indominicada. Onoratus, ad requiren- 
dum. Vuideratus, baccalarius Bertefredus. Uxor Florentia. 
Inga, filia annorum X. Emnildis, filia annorum V. Dominica, filia 
annorum III. Joanna, filia annorum III. Infans ad uber. 

Ibid., p. 647. 

The following occurs in the Usages de Barcelone 

. 5 

(11) Sacramenta rustici qui teneat mansum e+ laboret cum 
pare bourn sint credenda usque ad VII solidos platae. De aliis 
namque rusticis qui dicuntur bacallarii, credantur sacramenta 
usque ad IV mancusos auri valencie. 6 Deinde quidquid jurent per 
examen caldarie demonstrent. • 

(A. D. 1068?). 

5 Ch. Giraud, Essai sur l'histoire du droit français au moyen âge. 
Paris, 1846, vol. il, p. 474. The passage cited constitutes §§ 52-53 
of Giraud's text of the Usatici Barellinone Patrie. Cited by Du 
Cange as from Usatici Barchinonenses, cap. 46. 

6 The table of moneys given in the Usages, § 141 (Giraud, n, 495) 
shows that a silver solidus had the value of one gold mancusus 
and a half. 

232 STOWELL [8 

The context of the examples cited above for baccalaria 
throws very incomplete light on the meaning of the word, 
but its constant recurrence to indicate some subordinate por- 
tion of a country property, inventoried side by side with 
chapels, servants' quarters, gardens, orchards, vineyards, 
meadows, groves, thickets, and the like, renders manifest that 
it was some form of farm dependency. 7 

Baccalarius, baccalaria, as an adjective or substantive 
applied to persons, is employed in enumerations of peasants, 
and stands (after the names of married couples and either 
alone or in conjunction with filius, filia) in contrast with 
adults and with children of all ages from infancy up to and 
including fifteen years. It is also used in contrast with 
unqualified filius, filia. The conclusion seems natural that 
the unqualified filius, filia had reference to an adult son, 
daughter, while (filius) baccalarius, (filia) baccalaria, re- 
ferred to the children over fifteen years old but not yet 
mature, to the adolescents. The passages found all occur in 
one ninth-century text and clearly accord with this interpre- 
tation, with the exception of the example (II, 11) occurring 
two centuries later in the document from Barcelona. Here 
the baccalarius is mentioned as a type of rustic whose oath 
is counted as of less value than that of certain specific small 
proprietors. This might seem to indicate that at the later 
period the term had come to be applied to the tenants of an 
exceedingly unimportant fief — a meaning not impossible of 

•' Du Gange ( Glossarium, Henschel-Favre, I, p. 509 ) , Deloche 
{Cartulaire de Beaulieu, Paris, 1859, pp. cclxxxvi if . ) , and Diez 
{Wòrterbuch, s. v. baccalare), see in the baccalaria a more or less 
important tenure with the baccalarius as tenant. Stubbs {Select 
Charters, Glossary, s. v. bacheleria) would make it a grazing farm. 
On these views see Guilhiermoz, Origine de la noblesse, Paris, 1902, 
pp. 111-112. Guilhiermoz recognizes that the baccalaria is only a 
minor portion of a tenure, but does not attempt to determine its 
character further than that he considers the example cited above, I, 
12, to indicate that the ground was in cultivation. Doniol, Cartu- 
laire de Sauxillanges, pp. 19-20, discusses the word, but reaches no 


development from baccalarius, " a youth/' but more likely to 
be derived from baccalaria, " a farm-dependency." 

Leaving aside for the moment the reasons for the change 
of initial v to b, I should suggest, in the light of the above 
indications of the meaning of this group of words, the follow- 
ing possible developments in form and meaning: from bacca, 
"cow," an adjective *baccalis, " having relation to cows"; 
from this, baccalaria, " place having relation to cows," hacca- 
larius, " person connected with a baccalaria." There is not 
at present sufficient information about the nature of the 
baccalaria and the baccalarius to give certainty to more 
specific définitions. It is therefore only as a query and 
under all reserves that I make the suggestions which follow. 
Since the baccalaria in the cartularies is a minor form of 
farm-dependency, this dependency may have been the pasture 
field or fields, a meaning not out of harmony with the ex- 
amples, except perhaps in the case of I, 12, where the late 
date minimizes its value in determining the basal signification 
of the word. The baccalarius, " the youth " of the cartularies, 
may in like manner once have been " the cow-herd." Since 
cow-herding as one of the lightest forms of farm labor would 
frequently fall to the charge of adolescents, " cow-herd " 
could readily be transferred in meaning to " adolescent." 

It is not impossible that we have a trace of the meaning 
" cow-herd " preserved still in the Old French, to judge by 
the following examples, 8 taken from Old French Bible gloss- 
aries in Hebrew characters. 

r> : moron noiw DTnn to tth^jbïtn*? D'nyjn 

E: npn ijm on tin^o^ unmn 

F : moron "now °^nn on tr^po wh onjnn 

8 These examples are from the manuscripts described by Dar- 
mesteter in " Glosses et glossaires hébreux-français," Ro. I, pp. 
146-176. For them and the accompanying comment I am indebted 
to the kindness of Dr. D. S. Blondheim of the University of Illinois. 

234 STOWELL [10 

D. " The young men," les bâchelers, that is, the herdsmen who 

guard the cattle. 

E. " The young men," les bachelers, these are herdsmen of cattle. 

F. " The young men," les mechines, these are the herdsmen who 

guard the cattle. 

The Hebrew word glossed, though used elsewhere as well 
(Gen. 37, 2) for a herdsman, literally means only a "young 
man," a " lad," and the fact that MS. F translates " les 
mechines," makes it doubtful whether bacheler really means 
more than " youth " in this connection. It is possible, how- 
ever, in view of the somewhat archaic character of the glos- 
saries, that D and E preserve an old gloss using bacheler in 
an antiquated sense, while F, which seems to have been 
written in Germany and is perhaps later than the other texts, 
may have altered the original reading. 

Should the connection in meaning among the forms we 
have considered be granted to be natural, there still remains 
the question of the substitution of initial b for v. In con- 
nection with this, the geographical location of the examples 
is of interest. Baccalaria, the farm dependency, has been 
found only in texts belonging to territory which is embraced 
in the present departments of Corrèze (Beaulieu and Tulle: 
14 examples), Cantal (Aurillac: 1 example), Aveyron (Con- 
ques: 1 example), Puy-de-Dôme ( Sauxillanges, located in 
the south-central part of the department: 1 example). 
Turning to the Atlas linguistique, 9 we find that Latin initial 
v is represented by b in Aveyron, and by b by the side of v 
in Corrèze and Cantal. In other words, baccalaria belongs to 
the b territory in sixteen instances and to contiguous terri- 
tory in the remaining instance. 10 

9 Carte 1349, " vache," and other maps of words with initial v. 

10 In the cases where the word baccalaria has become a proper 
name (see note 4), the almost uniform custom of joining with it 
the article la indicates that we are dealing merely with the French 
place name La Bachellerie in a Latin dress, but there seems no 
reason to question that this French name goes back in the first 


Baccalarius applied to persons, with the exception of the 
Barcelona example, has been found only at Marseilles; that 
is to say, in territory still in the general region near the 
v > b ground, but more distinctly separated from it than 
any place at which we have been able to locate baccalaria, 
the land term. 

A possible inference from the foregoing facts and deduc- 
tions is that in a part of South France, in a section where 
v > b, there arose the words baccalaria, baccalarius with the 
meanings represented in other French territory by vaccaria, 
vaccarius; that baccalarius, in a transferred meaning "youth," 
lost all trace of its connection with vacca and spread to the 
other parts of the territory, forming the background of 
bachelier. 11 

The material brought together in this paper can probably 
be supplemented by further examination of documents, 12 

place to baccalaria. As a place name, however, it has lost all traces 
of whatever specific content it originally possessed, and we find it in 
the cartularies applied to mansus, villa, or bordaria. 

Baccalaria as a place name occurs for Corrèze (Uzerche and Tulle: 
5 examples), Cantal (Valuéjol: 1 example), and Haute-Vienne 
(Vigeois, Aureil, Limoges: 7 examples) ; that is, to b territory in 
six instances, to contiguous territory in the other seven instances. 
Joanne's Dictionnaire géographique gives La Bachellerie as the 
name of five places in France, ranging in population from 60 to 1535. 
One of these is located in Dordogne, two are in Corrèze, two in Haute- 
Vienne. These indications render it probable that baccalaria as a 
common noun and, later on, as a proper noun originated in and was 
restricted to a limited territory in and near the region where v is 
still to-day represented by 6. 

n If this be correct, the Old French form bacheler is due to 
an almost inevitable confusion with the other words with an I stem 
(sangler, chevaler, escoler, etc.), which go back to the suffix -alis. 
On the French -er and -ier, see Diet, gén.: Traité, pp. 61, 96, 117; 
on -arius, see Zimmerman, Die Geschichte des lat. Suffixes -arius, 
Darmstadt, 1895; Thomas, Ro. xxxi, pp. 481-498. 

12 1 have, however, been unable to find further examples of 
baccalaria in a quite extensive list of cartularies from all parts of 
the territory. 

236 STOWELL [12 

and it can manifestly not be claimed that the evidence here 
adduced is conclusive as to the meaning of baccalaria and 
the relation of the group of words. It is possible that I am 
influenced in my interpretation by the fact that the render- 
ings would accord with the connection suggested between 
these words and bachelier, yet if further investigation should 
reveal additional material according with the meaning and 
the geographical distribution of the examples so far cited, 
there would seem to be no valid objection to definitely 
connecting the word bachelier with Latin vacca. 13 

13 1 desire to express my thanks to Professor C. M. Andrews for 
information regarding English documents where the word baccalaria 
might be sought, and to Professor E. C. Armstrong, who, in addition 
to other valuable suggestions, directed my attention to the import- 
ance of the geographical location of the cartularies where the term 



D. S. Blondheim 


To one who reads the article cadastre in the New English 
Dictionary, it would seem that modern lexicographical science 
had said its last word on the subject. We are told that 
cadastre has been adopted from " Fr. cadastre; = Sp., It. 
catastro : — Late L. capitastrum l register of the poll tax/ f . 
caput head, poll," and that the word means "a. ( = L. capi- 
tastrum.) The register of capita, juga, or units of territorial 
taxation into which the Eoman provinces were divided for 
the purposes of capitolio terrena or land tax. (Poste Gaius.) 
b. A register of property to serve as a basis of proportional 
taxation, a Domesday Book. c. (in mod. French use) A 
public register of the quantity, value, and ownership of the 
real property of a country." A closer examination of the 
subject, however, is unfavorable to the views adopted by the 
editors of the great work of the Philological Society. 

To begin with, so far as accessible information indicates, 
the Latin capitastrum, which figures so bravely as the etymon 
of cadastre, never existed except in the imagination of 
etymologists. The New English Dictionary, usually so care- 
ful, has been led astray by the commentary appended to 
Poste's edition and translation of the Roman jurist Gaius' In- 

1 For valuable aid in connection with the following notes I am 
indebted to Professors David H. Carnaharf and John D. Fitz-Gerald, 
of the University of Illinois, to Professor Edward S. Sheldon, of 
Harvard University, and to my sister, Miss Grace H. Blondheim. 

1] -237 


stitutionum luris Civilis Commentarli Quatuor, 2 from which 
comes the substance of definition a, as well as the quotation 
given a few lines below it : " The list of capita was called a 
Cadastre (capitastrum) ." 3 

Poste has in turn derived his information from Savigny, 
to whom he refers. The illustrious German jurist, in a 
paper entitled Komische Steuerverfassung unter den Kaisern* 
in describing the ancient registers of real property, remarks : 
" Im spateren Mittelalter nannte man diese Grundbücher 
capitastra, weil es Verzeichnisse der Steuerhufen (capita) 
waren : daraus hat sich catastrum gebildet, welches noch in 
unsern Tagen die übliche Bezeichnung geblieben ist." 
Savigny states that this derivation is already to be found 
in Jacques Godefroy's famous edition of the Theodosian code, 
a work first printed at Lyons in 1665. Godefroy mentions, 
in fact, 5 that a book of the kind in question " In Gallia ali- 
quibus in locis a capitibus vel capitatione, Capdastra, vel 
Catastre vocatur, Capitationis scilicet registrum." It will 
be seen that Savigny has gone a step beyond the cautious 
Godefroy in giving as a real form a purely hypothetical 
capitastra, made, no doubt, in the image of capdastra. 

2 Oxford, 1875, p. 174. 

3 It may be noted in passing that the New English Dictionary, 
in its etymological note, falls, as does Diez (p. 93), into the error 
of many old jurists as to the sense - of caput in Roman law, in 
describing capitastrum as a " register of the poll tax," while a few 
lines below, under definition a, it inconsistently follows the correct 
interpretation, given by Poste, according to which caput was a unit 
of land. 

4 This study, read February 27, 1823, before the Berlin Academy 
of Sciences, was printed in the Abhandlungen of the Academy 
{historisch-philosophische Klasse) for the years 1822 and 1823, 
(Berlin, 1825). The passage referred to is on p. 57, and is reprinted 
in Savigny's Kleinere Schriften, vol. 2 (Berlin, 1850), pp. 125-126. 

5 Codex Theodosianus cam perpetuis commentariis Jacobi Gotho- 
fredi, ed. Bitter, vol. 5 (Mantua, 1748), p. 104. The passage in 
question is cited by the Benedictines in Du Cange, s. v. capdastra. 

3] CADASTRE 239 

Savigny's conjecture was not a new one. Long before him 
Ménage had advanced the opinion that catastro and cadastre 
came from capitastrum, in supporting his view by " Panci- 
enne orthographe capdastre." 6 

Diez follows Ménage. He says (I. I.): " Das fruhste 
mittelalter brauchte dafiir capitularium Greg. Tur. 9, 30 
mit dem zusatz in quo tributa continebantur, eigentlich eine 
in capitula eingeteilte schrif t ; 7 capitastrum aber entstand 
gewiss unmittelbar aus caput wie sp. cabezón steuerliste aus 
cabeza." Thus, like Savigny, Diez would appear to regard 
capitastrum as of late medieval origin. 

The objections naturally presenting themselves against 
such a hypothesis are striking. In the first place, as Ulrich 
suggests, 8 the formation of such a word at any period would 
be surprising. Moreover, if the word had arisen late in the 
middle ages, as Diez supposes, it could not have given the 
Eomance forms, which could have come only from a popular 
development, and an irregular one at that. There is little 
need to enlarge upon the difficulties of this etymology, diffi- 
culties which led the editors of the Dictionnaire general to 
describe the origin of the word as uncertain, and caused 
Gaston Paris 9 to treat with a certain seriousness Ulrich's 
very hypothetical ^Karóo-rpaKov. 

The oldest examples of the word known to me are cited 
from Italy. Giulio Eezasco, in his valuable Dizionario 
del linguaggio italiano storico e amministrativo, 10 informs 
us (s. v. catasto) that the word came into use in Flor- 
ence in connection with a reform in taxation introduced 

6 Dictionnaire étymologique de la langue françoise (Paris, 1694), 
s. v. cadastre. Capitastrum appears for the first time in the Origini 
della lingua italiana (Paris, 1669). 

7 The reference to Gregory of Tours is borrowed from Ménage, who 
cites it from Antoine Dadin de Hauteserre's Rerum Aquitanicarum 
libri quinqué (Toulouse, 1648, p. 172). 

8 ZRPh. xxii, 262. 9 Ro. xxvn, 511. 
10 Florence, 1881. 


in the year 142 7, involving an assessment of all sources of 
income. The word was also applied to the tax levied on the 
basis of such an assessment. 11 The word occurs previously 
in Umbria and in the Marches; Eezasco cites the form 
cátaselo (sic; bis) from the statutes of Perugia (1342) and 
catasti (pi.) from those of Norcia (1342), while the archives 
of Fabriano still preserve the Liber Catastus Fabriani de 
anno 1322. The word is found still earlier in Venice, under 
the form catastico ; in a document dated November, 1185, it 
signifies a list of citizens owning taxable property. 12 

The word was not, however, restricted in the Venetian 
territory to this sense ; it often meant simply an inventory, 

11 The oldest Florentine text known to me containing the word is 
a Latin document dated July 4, 1426, with the form catastum, 
published in the Giornale storico degli archivi toscani, iv, 40. For 
a reference to the article containing it I am indebted to Rezasco, 
I. I. The oldest examples cited by the Benedictines in Du Cange 
(s. v. catastrum) come from documents of Popes Eugene IV (1431- 
1447) and Nicholas V (1447-1455). S. v. catastatio the Benedictines 
refer to the De Finibus Regundis of Hieronymus de Monte ( 1st ed. 
Venice, 1556 [at Harvard] ; 2d ed., revised by the author, 
Venice, 1562 [Brit. Mus.] ) ; the passage indicated is (ed. 1588, f. 
348 v. ) , "6 Catastatio illius, qui est debitor onerum realium in 
uno loco, non praejudicat alteri loco. 7 Catastum praebet signum, 
quod bona in ilio acatastata (ed. 1556: accatestata) sint illius, 
cujus est catastum." Professor Sheldon states that this writer's 
proper name is Hieronymus de Monte Brixianus, and that he may 
have been related to "Petrus de Monte Venetus " (bishop of 
Brescia, 1442-1457; cf. Gradonicus, Brincia Sacra [Brescia, 1755], 
337 ff. ) , and perhaps to Pope Julius III. 

12 Rezasco, s. v. catastico and s. v. catasto; the text cited is 
probably that referred to by Cecchetti (La Vita dei veneziani fino al 
1200 [Venice, 1870], p. 51), as recording the entry in the " catastici 
del Comune" of the names of returned Venetians despoiled in 1171 
in Byzantine territory by the emperor Manuel, restitution being 
made by Andronicus Comnenus (1183-1185) and Isaac Angelus 
(1185-1195). On p. 73 Cecchetti cites another example of the 
same expression in Latin form from a text of May, 1207. 

5] CADASTRE 241 

as in the following passage of a Paduan chronicle : 13 " Ap- 
pare nel Catastico di tutti i beni della veneranda Arca di 
esso glorioso Santo delP anno 1405, che fino all' Anno pre- 
sente 1560 si conservano. . . " Cecchetti defines the word, 14 
" Inventario, e spesso quasi protocollo di scritture risguardanti 
i possessi di privati, ed anche di tutti i documenti di un 
Ufficio o di una amministrazione, e, anticamente, degli averi 
e degli aggravii del Governo." 

Catastico seems also to have meant the " statute-book " or 
" journal " (matricola) of a corporation; a text of 1530 15 tes- 
tifies that the expenditure of 150 ducats on August 3, 1377, by 
the Scuola di San Cristoforo dei M ercadanti alla Madonna 
dell' Orto " . . . apar . . . per el libro over chatasticho delà 
nostra schuola . . . " 

Eezasco cites the dérivâtes catasticare (1425), catasticatore 
(1540), and catasticazione (1576), all used in reference to 
the assessment of property. Pirona gives the noun catàstic 
and the verb catasticâ as in use in Friuli. 

From the facts cited it is evident that any etymological 
study of catasto must begin with the form catastico, which, 
strangely enough, seems to have escaped the attention of all 
previous students of the word, with one exception. 16 

13 Muratori, Rerum italicarum scriptores, vol. xvn, col. 944; cited 
by Rezasco, s. v. catastico. 

14 Archivio veneto, xxix, 471. 

B Atti del Regio Istituto Veneto, scries in, vol. xv, p. 1616. 

16 The exception is Ottavio Ferrari, who, in his Origines linguae 
Italicae (Padua, 1676), has an article headed Catasto & Catastico, 
which he proposes to derive " à Graeco Kadicraixai, constituor, 
redigor, componor; vt Catastici libri sint, in quibus bona civiura 
conscribuntur, & in ordinem rediguntur. Il registro." Though born 
in Milan (1607), Ferrari had been professor in Padua since 1634 
and doubtless learned to know the form catastico in his new 
environment. As he taught Greek, one might suppose he meant to 
regard the word as adapted from KaraarariKÓs rather than directly 
from Ka6i<rraixai ; cf. the French catastatique (Littré) and the 
erroneous Portuguese form catastico, "adj. (de catastase) t. med. 
Do. temperamento" (Moraes, 1844, 1858, 1877). Michaelis (1907) 
gives the proper Portuguese form catastatico. 



Catastico is clearly an adaptation of the mediaeval and 
modern Greek word Karaon-ixov meaning nowadays (Hé- 
pitès) an " account-book/' 17 " a list." The oldest example 
known to me 18 occurs in the Antiquum Rationarum Augusti 
Caesaris, 19 where it is applied (Cotelerius, p. 355; Gronovius, 
p. 737) to an account of tax-receipts kept by a district tax- 

In the comprehensive study (in Russian) entitled " Traces 
of Cadastres in Byzantium/' 20 the distinguished Russian 
historian Professor ITspensky, director of the Russian Archae- 
ological Institute in Constantinople, points out (p. 315) that 
ÒLKpóa-TLxov unites in Byzantine Greek the meanings " tax- 
register, assessment-book/' and " land-tax " (cf. the two 
senses of catasto), while the primitive ar^oís means in 
mediaeval times " assessment-book/' He cites (pp. 315, 327) 
several examples of the use of adapted forms of a/cpocmxov 
in Latin documents, but seems in the accessible parts of the 
article to make no reference to KaiTao-rxov or catastico. 

" The word has passed in this sense into Roumanian, where it has 
the forms catastili and catastif; ef. Cihac, vol. n, p. 645. 

18 Referred to in Du Cange, Glossarium Mediae et Infimae Grae- 
ciiatis, s. v. 

19 This text, contained in a twelfth century manuscript in Paris 
(cf. Cat. Omont, no. 1670), was published by Montfaucon (Analecta 
Graeca, Paris, 1688; also in Cotelerius, Ecclesiae Graecae Monu- 
menta, vol. iv, Paris, 1692), and also by Gronovius (De Sestertiis, 
Leyden, 1691). It is posterior to Leo the Isaurian (717-741; cf. 
Cotelerius, p. 325, and Gronovius, p. 712), and antedates 1099 (cf. 
Cotelerius, p. 367 ; Gronovius, p. 746. 

' M Published in the Journal of the Ministry of Education (St. 
Petersburg), ccxxxi (1884), 1-43 and 289-335, and ccxl (1885), 
1-52. The latter volume is inaccessible, the files of the Journal in 
the Harvard, Astor, and Congressional Libraries all being incom- 
plete. Being unable to read Russian, I am greatly indebted to Dr. 
Simon Litman and to Mr. H. E. Mantz, of the University of Illinois, 
for the translation of portions of the article. Krumbacher's Ge- 
schichte der byzantinischen Litteratur (2d edition, Munich, 1897), 
p. 1086, makes reference to the study. 

7] CADASTRE 243 

Gaston Paris' remark, 21 " il semble bien que Kara figure dans 
ce mot," represents an approach to the opinion I have ad- 
vanced, and supports it to a certain extent. 

The borrowing of the Greek word by the Venetians is 
easily understood, and would seem to add a new fact to the 
history of Byzantine influence upon the West of Europe. 
The change from catastico to catasto in some non- Venetian 
dialect is also readily comprehensible. The existence of 
catasta, "pile of wood," would facilitate the change, 22 as 
well as the analogy of words like simbolo by the side of 

The adoption of the word by the Florentines was soon 
followed by its appearance in other parts of Italy; Eezasco 
notes (s. v. catasto) that it occurs in Genoa in 1453, and 
figures in a Neapolitan text dated 1490. The influence of 
the termination -astro produced the non-Tuscan form catas- 
tro, used, according to Rezasco, s. v., "nelF Urbinate, nel 
Piemonte e nella Liguria." 23 

Catastro seems to have passed into Provence about the 
beginning of the sixteenth century. Mistral cites the form 

21 Ro. xxvii, 511. 

22 The attempt of Machiavelli, who is followed by Muratori (Anti- 
quitates Italicae, n, col. 1181; referred to in Du Gange, s. v. 
catastrum) , to derive catasto from the catasta group, is quite 
unsatisfactory on morphological as well as semantic grounds. This 
view has had a belated revival in the study of P. F. Bernitt, Lat. 
caput unci *capum nebst ihren Wortsippen im Franzosischen (Kiel, 
1905), p. 93 if. ; this work, accessible only at the last moment, 
anticipates some of the points made in the present article, especially 
that of the diffusion of the word from Italy. 

23 Morri (Vocabolario romagnolo-italiano, Faenza, 1840) gives the 
form catastar; Cherubini (vol. 4, 1843, supplement), gives the Milan- 
ese form catàster, as well as (1839) the diminutive catastrin, used 
also in the sense of " quello estratto del Catasto che ogni estimato ha 
diritto ad ottenere dalle autorità per quella parte per cui vi è 
inscritto." G. R. Carli (Scritt. class, it al. di economia poi., xiv, 
240) used in 1760 catastiamo for catasto. 


cathastre from the Cadastre of Albi, dated 1525. 24 Catastre 
became cadastre through the analogy of words derived from 
Lat. catasta; cf. Mistral, cadastre, and also Levy, cadastar. 
The writing -pd- is a reflection of the influence of Provençal 
words of the caput family ; it is also to be noted that cap-brèu 
(cf. Mistral and Sp. cabezón), is used in a sense similar to 
that of cadastre. 25 

The French cadastre is first cited from Jean Bodin's Dis- 
cours sur les monnoyes (1578), which speaks of the " cadastre 
de Toulouze " ; the word comes of course from Provence, as 
the Dictionnaire general remarks. Catastro does not appear 
in accessible Spanish dictionaries before 1780 (Dictionary of 
the Spanish Academy). Moraes (1844) cites cadastro from 
a Portuguese text of 1788, and catastro appears in 1803 in 
the Catalan Dictionary of Esteve-Belvitges-Juglá y Font. 

If the view advanced in this article be correct, it throws 
an interesting side-light upon the remark of Burckhardt, 26 
" Venedig mòchte sich wohl ais den Geburtsort der modernen 
Statistik geltend machen dürfen, mit ihm vielleicht Florenz 
und in zweiter Linie die entwickelteren italienischen Fiirsten- 
thiimer." Compare the statement of Einaldo degli Albizi, 
in recommending on March 7, 1427, the adoption of the 
catasto : 27 " Et Veneciis forma hec servatur, et dicitur civi- 
tatem illam pre ceteris melius regi et gubernari. . . " 

24 The form catastre is given as a variant of cadastre by Cotgrave 
(1611), as well as by Jacques Godefroy, who has been cited above. 

25 In connection with the Venetian meaning of catastico, it is 
interesting to note the remark of Chomel (Supplément, 1743, proba- 
bly copying Savary des Bruslons, 1723-30), that cadastre is sometimes 
applied by the merchants of Provence and Dauphiné "au Journal 
ou Registre sur lequel ils écrivent chaque jour les affaires concernant 
leur commerce, et le détail de la dépense de leur maison." 

26 Die Cultur der Renaissance in Italien, ed. Geiger, vol. I (Leipsic, 
1877), p. 69. 

27 Giornale storico degli archivi toscani, iv, 43-4 ; cited by Rezasco, 
s. v. catasto. 

9] CERDO, CERDA 245 

Cerdo, Cerda 

Diez's view 28 that the Spanish and Portuguese cerdo, 
" hog," is derived from Lat. sordidus, through the interme- 
diate forms *suerdo, * ser do, the change of ue to e being 
supposedly parallel to that seen in fruente > frente, has been 
pronounced " very doubtful " by Meyer-Lübke, 29 and rejected 
by Ford 30 as postulating initial c < s and e < ô. The indi- 
rect confirmation of Diez's etymology which Madame 
Michaëlis de Vasconcellos finds in her demonstration [Mis- 
cellanea . . . in memoria di Nap. Caix e Ugo A. Canello 
(Florence, 1886), pp. 164-165] that Portuguese xurdo 
"dirty" (epithet of a hog) and xodreiro "dirty; mud- 
puddle," come from Lat. sordidus, is not very convincing, 
though it seems to have led Meyer-Lübke to modify the 
statement previously quoted by saying 31 that it is " not 
certain " that cerdo is from sordidus. 

Diez notes that by the side of cerdo there exists the word 
cerda, " bristle, horse-hair," which he regards as derived 
from cerdo; he suggests that cerda originally may have 
meant a " pig-skin," and then have been restricted to the 
" bristles " upon the pig-skin. This view, in itself none too 
plausible, rests in part upon an error. Diez defines cerda 
incorrectly "haufe schweinsborsten oder auch pferdehaare," 
an inaccuracy probably explained by the fact that cerda is 
generally used in the plural. 

A serious objection to this explanation consists in the 
apparently complete absence of cerdo from Spanish diction- 
aries printed previous to 1729, when the word appears in 
the famous Diccionario de autoridades of the Spanish 

28 Etymologisches Wôrterbuch, p. 438. 
™ZRPh. vin, 228. 

30 Old Spanish Sibilants, in the Harvard Studies and Notes in 
Philology and Literature, vu, 72, n. 2. 

31 Grammaire des langues romanes, i, § 217. 

246 BLONDHEIM [10 

Academy/ 2 Cerda, on the other hand is found in Pedro de 
Alcalá (1505), 33 in Christoual de las Casas (1587), and in 
Covarrubias (1611). If the last-named, who is generally 
well-informed, had known of the existence of cerdo, he could 
hardly have failed to mention it, since he remarks, s. v. 
cerda: " Solos los puercos están llenos de cerdas, estas son 
cortas, y los llamamos por esta razón, El ganado de la cerda." 
Moreover, the word is not added in the enlarged edition of 
Covarrubias published in 1674, and the Diccionario de auto- 
ridades, though it quotes the word cerda from three writers, 
does not give any examples to illustrate the use of the word 
cerdo, and defines it : " Lo mismo que Cochino, Puerco ò 
Marrano. Llámase también assi, porque este animal en lugar 
de pelo está cubierto de cerdas cortas. . . " 

It should be noted, moveover, that no form corresponding 
to cerdo exists by the side of cerda in Catalan. 34 Further- 
more, the Portuguese dictionary of Moraes (1844), which 
gives cerda without remark, describes cerdo as antiquated; 

32 The word cerdo, along with cerdudo and cerdoso, has been added 
in the margin of the copy of Covarrubias (1611) belonging to the 
Johns Hopkins University. The original owner of the book, one 
Don Diego Nicolas Ruiz de Ojeda Gallegos y Andrada, to give him 
in one breath all the names he assumes in three incomplete auto- 
graphs on the title-leaf of the book, made systematic additions to 
the dictionary, mostly learned words of little interest to Romance 
students. D. Antonio Paz y Mélia kindly informs me that the 
Madrid ms. cited by Gallardo (Ensayo, il, app., p. 115, s. v. Ojeda) 
makes no reference to this D. Diego de Ojeda. The additions, accord- 
ing to various indications, would seem to antedate the Diccionario de 
autoridades. This manuscript note is consequently the oldest evi- 
dence known to me for the existence of cerdo. 

33 P. 166 6, ed. Lagarde. Neither cerdo nor cerda occurs in 
Lebrija, to judge by the reprint of Antonio por Rubinos (1778). 

34 This statement rests on the fact that the dictionaries of Esteve- 
Belvitges-Juglâ y Font (1803), Labernia (1839), Saura (1878), 
and Labernia y Esteller (n. d.), though all containing cerda, give 
no form *cert, and that Saura (1870) renders the Spanish cerdo, 
" Porch, tocino, baco." 

11] CERDO, CERDA 247 

this statement should probably be interpreted as meaning 
that the word was an ephemeral importation from Spain. 35 

It would seem, then, that cerdo was derived from cerda, 
presumably at a comparatively late period. The exact way 
in which cerdo was formed is obscure; the suggestion of the 
Spanish Academy (1899) that the word comes from cerdudo 
(cf. also cerdoso) is perhaps along the right track. 

If it be granted that cerdo is derived from cerda, and not 
vice versa, it is clear that the etymology must be looked for 
in another direction. Here Catalan, as in so many other 
Iberian questions, is of assistance. Labernia (1839) gives 
cerra as a rare form of cerda, and registers serra as an anti- 
quated equivalent; 36 Esteve-Belvitges-Juglá y Font (1803) 
give cerra as rare, serra as archaic, and cerda only as an 
equivalent of cerra, while Saura (1878) gives cerda and 
cerra without remark. Inasmuch as Lacavalleria (1696) 
gives only cerres or serres (pi.)? an ¿ as Torra (1757; first 
éd., inaccessible, 1650) has only cerras (pi.), it seems 
probable that the true Catalan form is cerra, and that cerda 
is due to Spanish influence. The fact that the Majorcan 
form is cerra and not cerda 37 lends color to this view. It is 
further to be noted that a form cerros, paralleling Spanish 
cerdoso, is given in the dictionary of " F. M. F. P. y M. M." 
(1839), as well as in the pentaglot dictionary "per una 

35 This view is supported by the fact that cerdo appears in none 
of the older Portuguese dictionaries accessible {e. g., Barbosa, 1611; 
Bluteau, 1712; Bluteau and Moraes, 1789), and that the Moraes 
of 1844 cites no author who uses the word. It seems possible, 
indeed, that cerda also is not properly a Portuguese word. It is 
not found in Barbosa (1611), and, though Bluteau and Moraes 
(1789) cite it from the writings of Vieira (1608-1697), Bluteau 
(1712) says that cerdoso, which he cites from Camoëns, is derived 
from the Spanish cerda, and translates (1721) the Spanish cerdas 
de bestia by sedas. 

36 In Labernia y Esteller (n. d.) we find the same statements, 
except that serra is not described as archaic. 

37 Cerra is the only form given by Figuera (1840) and by the 
Diccionario . . . Mallorquín-castellano por unos amigos (1859). 

248 BLONDHEIM [12 

Societat de Catalans" (1839), and that cerrúd, an analogue 
of cerdudo (cf. the Abruzzese cerrute, " Setoloso " [Fina- 
more] ), appears in the two Majorcan dictionaries cited. 

Cerra, of which serra is doubtless a mere orthographical 
variant, seems clearly to come from the Lat. cirra, a femi- 
nine form of cirrus, " lock of hair/' abundantly attested in 
grammarians and glossaries. Some of the manuscripts con- 
taining cirra are as old as the seventh century. Cirrus 
is used in Latin of horse hair, and as it is frequently used 
in the plural, it could readily come to be applied to a single 
hair. The step from " horse-hair " to " hog-bristle " is not 

Cerda appears to be a modification of cerra. The change 
from rr to rd is perhaps an example of consonantal dissimi- 
lation, parallel to the well-known cases in which 11 and nn 
become Id and nd. 38 Cases which might lend some color to 
such a view are those of izquierdo and ardalear. As regards 
the former, Old Spanish has also the form esquerro, 39 the 
normal forms in Catalan and Provençal have no -rd-, 40 and 
the Basque form would appear, according to the evidence 
adduced by Diez (p. 461), to be usually in -rr- rather than 
in -rd-, 41 so that one would expect -rr- rather than -rd- in the 
primitive Iberian form. 42 Ardalear, cited by the Academy 

38 Cf. Baist, Grober's Grundriss, I 2 , 898. 

39 The only example of this form known to me is found in the 
Poema de José, ed. Janer, 185 e [=ed. Morf, 174 e]. 

40 Mistral cites, it is true, s. v. esquerro, a feminine Provençal 
form in -erdo, but as the old examples cited by Levy, s. v. esquerre- 
tat and esquerrier, have only -rr-, it would seem likely that the 
form in -rd- is due to Spanish influence. 

4i The Basque forms in -rd- appear to rest chiefly upon the testi- 
mony of Larramendi. 

42 The view suggested in regard to izquierdo has in part the 
support of the high authority of Professor Baist {ZRPh. vi, 461), 
though it is possible that he no longer holds to a view advanced 
twenty-eight years ago. Professor Schuchardt speaks (ibid., xxni, 
200) of the word as existing in Sardinian, without mentioning the 

13] CERDO, CERDA 249 

(1726) from the Agricultura of Gabriel Alonso de Herrera 43 
(described by Señor Menéndez y Pelavo 44 as "uno de los 
más clásicos y venerables " of Spanish testi di lingua) , as 
well as the participle ardaleado, 45 which are the equivalents 
of ralear and raleado, as applied to grape-clusters, in the 
sense of " thinning out, becoming thin/' would appear to be 
derived from an *arralear, a member of the group of Iberian 
words discussed by Cornu, 46 which take on a prosthetic a-. 47 
The rarity and uncertainty of corresponding examples, how- 
ever, would lead to the suggestion that perhaps cerra > cerda 
through the influence of seda and its derivate cedazo. This 
view is favored by the existence of the form cerdazo, given 
without any quotations by the Diccionario de autoridades as 
an antiquated form of cedazo. As a number of examples 
of forms in ced- are given, cerdazo would appear to be a 
rare and probably local variant of cedazo. 

The hypothesis of a connection between cerda and cirra 
is strengthened by the fact that cerda, like the French cer, 48 

form he may have had in mind. I have been unable to find a 
corresponding word in Spano, Hofmann, or Wagner, and do not 
know what source the eminent author of the Vokalismus des Vul- 
garlateins may have drawn upon. 

43 The passage cited by the Academy runs thus in the edition of 
Alcalá de Henares (1513; lib. il, eh. il, f. xxii, v°) : "Esta vua suele 
hardalear, que es quedar rala en los razimos." The initial h is 
probably merely orthographic. I owe the verification of the quota- 
tion to the courtesy of Dr. W. R. Martin, librarian of the Hispanic 
Society of America. The copy in the library of the society bears 
the signature " Gabriel Alonso de Herrera," and appears to have 
formed part of the author's own library. 

44 In the Prólogo, p. xxxvi, of Señor Bonilla y San Martin's 
Spanish translation (Madrid, n. d.) of Mr. Fitzmaurice-Kelly's 
History of Spanish Literature. 

45 Given in the Segunda impresión (1770) of the first two letters 
of the Diccionario de autoridades. 

të Ro. xi, 77-78. 

47 The form arralar is well attested. 

48 Cf. Thomas, Nouveaux essais, pp. 200-203. 

250 BLONDHEIM [14 

means a " bundle of flax not yet hackled/' while cerro, the 
regular derivative of cirrus, is applied to flax or hemp which 
has been hackled. It is also to be noted that the part of 
animals on which cerdas grow is called cerro, " back." The 
Diccionario de autoridades cites +wo passages which are of 
interest in this connection. The first comes from López de 
Gómara's Conquista de Méjico, which says of the iguana : 49 
" Paresce lagarto de los muy pintados, tiene la cabeza chica 
y redonda, el cuerpo gordo, el cerro erizado con cerdas. . . " 
The second citation is made up of lines from Gongora's 
second decima, 50 in which he speaks of the 

" jabalí, en cuyos cerros 
Se levanta un escuadrón 
De cerdas ..." 

"Biblioteca de autores españoles, xxn, 311 &. The Diccionario 
refers merely to " Hist, de Ind. fol. 15," presumably omitting a 
reference to part n, the Conquista de Méjico being published in at 
least one instance as a separately paged part of the Historia general 
de las Indias (cf. Gallardo, in, col. 453). 

50 Biblioteca de autores españoles, xxxn, 482 &. 



Edward C. Armstrong 


In a review * of two recent works on the adjective, I 
attempted to classify the current ideas with reference to the 
causes which determine the position of attributive adjectives 
in French. It is there set forth that a French adjective, 
when placed after its noun, serves as a logical distinguisher ; 
when placed before, as an emotional attribution. 2 A logical 
distinguisher marks out, from the specimens in question of 
a class named by the noun, the sub-class which the speaker 
has in mind; an emotional attribution serves to indicate, 
with reference to these specimens, the speaker's favorable 
or unfavorable impression : the specimens are adjudged satis- 
factory or noteworthy or faultless, unsatisfactory or insignifi- 
cant or defective. Dans le mur il y aune porte basse, 
in the wall there is a door of slight vertical extension. 
Un homme de basse stature, a man of defective 
height. Son chapeau mou, his hat of yielding texture. 
Son joli chapeau, Ms attractive hat. Son grand cha- 
peau, his notably big hai. 3 

1 Modem Language Notes, vol. xxin, pp. 149-154. 

2 Compare Vinet, Chrestomathie française, 8 n, p. 117; Grober, 
Grundriss, I 2 , p. 273. A small group of adjectives, for which emo- 
tional attribution is the commoner function, precede the noun also 
in the rarer cases in which they serve to distinguish a sub-class. 
For these, see infra, p. 7]. 

3 Since grand is one of the adjectives for which fore-position is 
as a rule generalized, son grand chapeau may also mean: that one 
of his hats lohich is distinguished from the others by its size. 

1] 251 


If the foregoing distinction exists, and the French speaker, 
by utilizing his power to change the place of the adjective, 
thus distinctly modifies its character, the question presents 
itself immediately whether it can then be asserted as a gen- 
eral principle of language that the place after the noun is 
the natural position of logical subdividers, the place before 
the noun the natural position of emotional epithets. Even 
if this holds good for French, it would not necessarily do so 
for other speeches; and to assume the universality of its 
application would at least imply a wide difference in the 
mental attitude of different peoples during the period when 
they were forming their habits in adjective position. Thus, 
a comparison of German and English with Romance positions 
would then seem to indicate, on the part of the Teutons, a 
most surprising predominence of a tendency to interpret the 
adjective as an epithet. In case, therefore, it should be 
strongly indicated that logical distinction and emotional 
attribution are, in some languages at least, not associated 
with post-position and fore-position, it might become advis- 
able to review the French status in order to determine 
whether, after all, the shift in position is there the deter- 
mining factor of the differing values, or whether it is only 
an accompanying phenomenon. 

A further question presenting itself is whether a language 
which, like the English, is not at liberty to vary the position 
of attributive adjectives has other methods of indicating the 
shadings of meaning that, in French, can be so delicately 
differentiated by the shift in word order. To seek an answer 
to these questions is the purpose of the present paper. 

Let us first consider in detail the different types of French 
epithets, and compare with them the corresponding English 
significations. In the first place, a number of French adjec- 
tives can, at times, instead of serving to distinguish a sub- 
class, simply call attention to the fact that the substantive 
to which they are attached possesses in extensive or in com- 


plete measure the qualities belonging to its class. The adjec- 
tive becomes thereby merely augmentative or meliorative, 
indicating the speaker's approval of the selection of the 
specimen in question as an example of the type named by the 
substantive. Compare: c'est un enfant parfait (i. e., a 
child without faults: distinguishing adjective), and: c'est un 
parfait enfant (i. e., a perfect specimen of the type 
"child": epithet). 

If French has, by means of position, this ready method of 
indicating the two values of the adjective, the English has 
also a means to accomplish the same result. Instead of 
varying the position, it differentiates by means of differences 
in the stress and in the closeness of union of the two ele- 
ments. In certain cases, we find a clearly noticeable stress 
resting upon the adjective. The noun also is accented, so 
that the two elements retain their independence and have 
between them an appreciable pause. In other cases the 
stress on the adjective is so light that the adjective is practi- 
cally proclitic; the substantive is then heavily stressed and 
no pause is possible between adjective and noun. Compare : 
he is a per'fect \ child', and : he is a perfect child'. Note 
the difference between : he has an ac'tive \ interest in the 
business, and: he has an active in' ter est in the business; 
between a brave' | sol'dier and a brave sol'dier; between a 
soft' | bed' and a soft bed'; between: now that he is down 
on the Irish, he has a French' \ cook', and: he will not so 
much as speak to his former friends, now that he has a 
French cook'. The list of examples showing similar dis- 
tinctions could be indefinitely lengthened. It is manifest 
that in the English adjectives cited accentuation followed by 
a pause corresponds to French post-position. 

It is perfectly natural that this difference in the separation 
of the two elements and in their accentuation should mani- 
fest itself. Decorative epithets, despite their emotional trend, 
should not themselves be stressed, but should instead increase 


the stress on the substantive; for decorative epithets are not 
emotional in the sense of magnifying their own importance, 
but are emotional attributes of the noun, fixing attention on 
the specimen mentioned as awakening admiration or surprise 
by the extent of its participation in the qualities belonging 
to the class. For this same reason, it is also natural that 
adjectives constituting emotional attributes should be very 
closely united with the substantive; and further that, when 
the adjective logically distinguishes, there should be a pause 
between the two elements. In fact, such a pause exists, not 
alone in English, but in French as well, and is there suffi- 
ciently marked to render infrequent, in colloquial French, 
liaison between a noun and a following (that is, a distin- 
guishing) adjective. Un petit enfant | américain. 

The fore-position of the French adjective and proclisis of 
the English adjective may also be observed when the adjective, 
instead of the value of a mere " plus," which obtains in the 
examples so far considered, takes on that of a mere " minus " ; 
namely, when the adjective is diminishing or pejorative in 
character. It is still an emotional attribution, and indicates 
the displeasure, condescension, or surprise awakened by the 
meagre participation of the individual in qualities naturally 
pertaining to the class, or by the meagre participation of the 
class in qualities usually present in ideally developed entities. 
Compare, for the French, un écrivain méchant (a writer 
who is characterized by malevolence: distinguishing adjec- 
tive) with un méchant écrivain (an unsatisfactory speci- 
men of the type "writer"; a sorry writer: epithet); une 
jeune fille mince with une mince dot; un domestique 
simple with un simple domestique; and, for the Eng- 
lish, an old' | hat' with an old hat' ; a lit'tle | house' with a 
little house' ; a wretch'ed | sin'ner with a wretched sin'ner; 
a sim'ple | ser'vant with a simple ser'vant. 

In the uses given above, the adjective as an emotional 
attribution stands in the relation to its substantive of an 


augment or a detractor. Another case where the adjective 
does not, and in fact can not, serve to distinguish a sub-class 
is when it is known to constitute a quality of the class as 
a whole; that is, when it forms one of the essential elements 
of the concept. If it is then detached and mentioned, this 
will be done solely because it possesses an augmentative or 
a detractive value which the speaker utilizes to give an in- 
dication of his emotional attitude toward the substantive 
concept. Here again we naturally find conformity to the 
laws for decorative epithets; the adjective joining the noun 
proclitically in the English, and preceding in the French. 
Compare, for the French, une nuit blanche with 
la blanche neige; une femme savante with un 
savant professeur du sanscrit; and, for the English: 
who ever saw a gen' tie | hye'na? with: he was as mild 
as a gentle lamb' ; this region abounds in the hard' | varieties 
of wood with : I slept on the hard floor'. 

If there is considered to exist only one member of the 
class named by the substantive, the adjective must of neces- 
sity possess the character just described and be augmentative 
or detractive: le paresseux Henri, la catholique 
Espagne ; lazy Ren'ry, Catholic Spain'. In many instances, 
however, a substantive usually applied to a single definite 
individual may also be looked upon as an appellative for the 
persons who happen to bear that name; or an individual 
designated by the substantive may be considered as being 
made up of separate individualities corresponding to his 
different epochs or qualities. When viewed in one of these 
two lights, the substantive may be qualified by a distinguish- 
ing adjective: Henri jeune, l'Angleterre catholique; 
big' I Iíen'ry, Cath'olic | Eng'land. While this is possible, and 
in some instances not infrequent, there exists for many indi- 
vidual cases in both languages a tendency to avoid the con- 
struction and to employ paraphrases, such as Henri 
pendant sa jeunesse; the Catholic portion of England; 


and a French Henri paresseux equivalent to la'zy Hen'ry, 
or an English drunk' Cae'sar for César saoul are quite 

A clear-cut example of the possible two-fold aspect of 
proper names as at times forming a class composed of a 
single member, and at times constituting appellatives, is fur- 
nished me by one of my friends. He grew up on his father's 
farm, on which there was another and much larger boy, 
whose name, like his, was Charles. My friend was called 
Charley, and, in order to distinguish between the two, the 
second Charles was regularly termed big' Char'ley. The son 
grew up and quitted the farm; and when, after a prolonged 
absence, he returned for a visit, he found that the adjective 
was still commonly attached to the name of his boyhood 
companion, but that, instead of being big' Char'ley, he had 
now become big Char'ley. The situation which had created 
the need for a distinguishing adjective having disappeared, 
the word " big " had shifted over and become an augmentative. 

It is important to note at this point that in English as in 
French a quality not common to the whole class named by 
the substantive is liable to assume the character of an aug- 
mentative or detractive attribution if it has already been 
established as a quality of a definite individual under dis- 
cussion. When the speaker employs an adjective which 
serves to posit for a second time a quality already imputed 
to the individual named by the substantive, if he makes 
this repetition for the purpose of recalling or emphasizing 
that the quality constitutes a distinguishing trait, the adjec- 
tive so employed naturally receives the treatment accorded 
a distinguishing adjective; but if he assumes that its dis^ 
tinguishing character is still sufficiently present and promi- 
nent in the hearer's mind, he may look on the adjective as 
now constituting an ornamental epithet. Thus of a lawyer 
whose mildness is well known or has been recently remarked 
upon, or Of whom an incident has been related tending to es- 
tablish mildness as an element of his character, we can per- 


feetly well say in French ce docile avocat, or employ in 
English a proclitic adjective: this timid law'yer. 

A group of the commonest French adjectives, such as 
bon, mauvais, jeune, vieux, etc., stand regularly before 
the noun, not only when augmentative or detractive, but 
even when they serve to distinguish a sub-class. All of these 
are adjectives which readily lend themselves to augmentative 
or detractive attribution, so that they would naturally occur 
oftener before the noun than after it, and at the period of 
the earliest French written monuments the dominant position 
had already been generalized, creating a stereotyped word order 
which still persists. No similar irregular treatment marks 
the corresponding English adjectives, which conform to the 
general laws of English adjective accentuation. 

Epithet and distinguishing adjective may alike unite with 
nouns to form compound words, which are then restricted to 
some one meaning among those of which they are potentially 
capable. When, in such cases, the French adjective precedes 
its substantive, no means exists of distinguishing for the ear 
that the speaker's intent is to use the phrase as a compound. 
Un bon mot, un bonhomme, un grand-père, une sage- 
femme have not a stress distinctive from that of un bon 
lit, un bon oncle, un grand poids, une sage réponse. 
In consequence of this, the establishment of such a 
compound value has the result of driving out the remain- 
ing possible meanings of the given combination, which 
ha\e then to be expressed in some other way. For 
example, c'est un bon homme is not used in the 
meaning: he is a good man. When the French adjective 
follows its substantive, some slight differentiation can be 
made, since the light pause which exists between noun and 
distinguishing adjective is eliminated if they unite into a 
compound noun ; but this difference is not sufficiently marked 
to prevent the compound form from driving out, as a rule, 
the other acceptations. Compare une ville | neuve and 
Villeneuve ; un goût | aigre and du vinaigre ; du marbre 



l blanc and du fer-blanc. In this matter of recognizing 
compounds, English has a distinct advantage. When the 
elements of the combination are not merged, the noun 
keeps its accent; but if the whole is felt as a single word, 
the stress, in accord with the general tendency of English 
word accent, shifts to the beginning; i. e., falls on 
the adjective, the noun assuming an enclitic relation to 
this initial stress. Thus the fused and the unfused forms 
can stand side by side and still be distinguished; as, 
for example, in a grand fath'er and a grand' father; a 
round' \ ta'ble and the Knights of the Bound' '-table ; a gen'tle | 
wom'an, a gentle wom'an and a gen'tlewoman. In a number 
of cases, it is difficult to determine whether the English adjec- 
tive, in the stage antecedent to its forming with the noun 
a compound word, was a distinguisher or an epithet. In 
such compounds as blackbird, paleface, red-breast, White- 
House, the adjective may in the beginning have served to 
point out a distinguishing mark, or it may have been an 
epithet indicating the agreeable or disagreeable sensation 
evoked in the mind of the speaker by the appearance of the 
individual named. In the French, on the other hand, the 
original character of the adjective is, of course, evident from 
its position. Thus the adjective was the mark of a sub-class 
in pivert, Esprit-Saint, chevau-léger, coffre-fort, amour- 
propre; it was originally augmentative or detractive in 
rouge-gorge, blanc-bec, blanc-manger, Saint-Siège, bas- 
fond, vif-argent, beau-fils, franc-macon. 

Adjectives which are emotional by their meaning are not 
forced, on this account, to precede the French noun. They 
can just as readily as any other adjectives serve to name 
distinguishing qualities, and this can still be true when they 
are so enunciated as to indicate that the speaker is stirred 
to the highest degree. They will be placed before the sub- 
stantive only under the same conditions as other adjectives; 
namely, when they constitute a mere augment or diminisher 
of the substantive; that is, when they contribute to the 


stress on the noun rather than direct attention to the stress 
on themselves. Thus the French does not especially fa- 
vor frequent antecedence for such of them as have pre- 
served a clear-cut, distinctive meaning. Bon and mauvais, 
which have lost most of their content and have become 
hardly more than a plus and a minus sign, stand regu- 
larly before the noun; heureux and triste, which have 
a more specific content, generally follow, and in the in- 
stances where they stand first hardly exceed in value bon 
and mauvais; while an author who places frequently 
at the front such adjectives as joyeux or terrible, 4 marks 
out his style as feeble and ineffective. Similarly, in 
English, good and lad are frequently proclitic; glad and sad 
not as commonly so; while joyful and terrible rarely fail to 
preserve their full accent. It may be noted in this connec- 
tion that to augment further the emotional intensity of 
emotional adjectives the English increases the force of their 
accent, prolonging, at the same time, the pause between the 
adjective and the noun. The French, on its side, prolongs 
the pause between the noun and the adjective, and shows a 
certain tendency, if the number of syllables permits this 
differentiation, to shift the accent of the adjective to 
the initial syllable : 5 ter"rible \ news' ; une nouvelle I 

No other rhetorical element causes as frequent disturb- 
ance in French adjective position as does chiasmus. The 
desire to fix the attention upon the unity of two kindred 
ideas, or to bring out the diversity between two that are 
opposed, seems at times the sole motive in the placing of 
a pair of adjectives modifying two nouns which happen to 
be located in proximity to one another. Yet it is interesting 
to note how rarely, in the works of the more careful authors, 

4 Bourget, who is rather over-fond of fore- position, not infrequently 
offers such instances as : Un malade qui, dans son agonie, lais- 
serait peut-être échapper un terrible secret, Emigré, p. 42. 

5 See Passy, Petite phonétique comparée, Leipzig, 1906, pp. 33-35. 

260 ARMSTRONG [10 

adjectives in such collocations are in pronounced disaccord 
with the law for the position of distinguishing adjective and 
epithet. In the following examples, chosen at random, 
chiasmus doubtless determines the position of the adjectives, 
but in no one of these cases is it impossible to reconcile their 
location with the principles treated in this paper. 

Si ceux-là sont damnés, qui furent amateurs Du parler clair et 
du clair sourire des dames, Hélas! le Paradis n'aura plus de chan- 
teurs, A. France, Poésies, 82. — De petits mariés pauvres et leur 
pauvre compagnie attendaient, id., M. Berger et, 76. — La princesse 
. . . l'aimait avec une mollesse fougueuse, avec une astucieuse 
sensualité dont le faible Berthier était troublé pour la vie, id., Puits 
de Ste. Claire, 292. — Ils s'engagèrent sur la route bleue, bordée de 
noir feuillage, dans la nuit silencieuse, id., M. Bergeret, 144. — A 
cause du froid acre de ce dur pays, Bourget, Emigré, 219. — Après 
le dernier cierge éteint, nuit complète et complète silence, Arène, 
Domnine, 39. — Vous enseignez aux jeunes poètes . . . l'amour de 
la poésie pure et du pur langage française, De Hérédia, Trophées, 
dedication. — Une fatigue immense, un immense dégoût l'enva- 
hissait, Prévost, Chonchette, 118. — Une barbe longue terminait de 
longs favoris, Rosny, Affaire Derive, 23. — Dont la robuste vieillesse 
faisait honte aux maturités épuisées d'aujourd'hui, Bourget, 
Emigré, 56. — Content des élections municipales qui n'avaient fait 
sortir ni nouvelles idées, ni hommes nouveaux, A. France, Orme 
du mail, 176. — Ayant en elle le double amour qu'ils représentent: 
le volontaire appel à la chasteté, et l'appel involontaire au 
sauvage amour, Aicard, Maurin des Maures, 279. 


The foregoing comparison of English accentuation with 
French adjective position seems to show that English proclisis 
is the correspondent to French fore-position, and to furnish 
examples of an English accentual equivalent for French post- 
position. It is now necessary to consider whether the examples 
thus far cited are typical of the whole of English usage: 
whether the epithet will uniformly be found to be proclitic, 
and the distinguishing adjective as uniformly be found to 


be accented. An observation of English as spoken and read 
seems to bear out the following conclusions : 

(1) Light stress or proclisis. An adjective used as an 
epithet is uniformly light-stressed. 

(2) Normal stress. Distinguishing adjectives are accent- 
ed, but the amount of stress they receive varies widely, at 
times being inferior to, and at times exceeding, the stress on 
the noun. Expiratory force which approximates or equals, 
but does not exceed, that on the following noun may be termed 
normal stress. Such stress constitutes the usual accentuation 
of distinguishing adjectives. 

(3) Heavy stress. The stress on the adjective will be 
greater than that on the noun, if it is desired to give promi- 
nence to the distinguishing character of the adjective. This 
will be the case (a) when the intent is to indicate that the 
quality in question is present to a degree so exceptional that 
it constitutes the preeminent mark of the individual; (6) 
when the quality in question is contrasted with other qualities, 
or when the individual's possession of the quality is contrasted 
with the absence of it from other members of the class. 

The following illustrations may serve to render the pre- 
ceding statement clearer: 

He lives alone in an ugly little house' (= light stress; 
French: une vilaine petite maison). — You can easily find 
his residence: he lives near the church in an ug'ly house' 
(= normal stress; une maison assez laide). — Look at that 
ug'ly house' ! (= heavy stress, a; regardez comme cette 
maison est vilaine ! ) . — Out of all the group he chose the 
ug'ly house' (= heavy stress, b; la maison laide ) . — It is an 
ug'ly house', but it is commodious (= heavy stress b; il est 
vrai que la maison est laide mais ....). Further 
examples are : 

(Light stress) He writes a fine hand' (une belle écriture). 
— We had a fine walk' ( une belle promenade) . — I am 
nothing but a humble police'man (un humble agent de 

262 ARMSTRONG [12 

(Normal stress) The whole letter was written in a fine' 
hand' (une écriture fine). — We rarely see a hum'ble 
police'man (un agent humble). — Then he told us an 
ama'zing sto'ry about his early adventures ( une histoire 
étonnante ) . — I should like a cup of strong' tea' and a few 
biscuits (de thé un peu fort). — Just then a tall' man' 
entered (un homme de haute taille). — He stooped and 
picked a red' flow'er growing at his feet (une fleur rouge). 

{Heavy stress, a) He writes a fine' hand' ! (une écriture 
fort belle). — We had a fine' walk' ! (une promenade tout 
à fait charmante ) . — He told an ama'zing sto'ry ! ( une 
histoire très étonnante). 

(Heavy stress, b) I like strong' tea', but I object to its 
being bitter ( je veux bien que mon thé soit fort, 
mais . . . ). — Even a tall' man' can stand erect in this 
doorway (un homme de haute taille). — From among the 
various colors he chose a red' flow'er ( une fleur rouge). 

Thus we see that distinguishing adjectives will have either 
the normal or the heavy stress. For both of these, the same 
accent symbol has been used throughout this paper, but it 
is important to keep in mind the existence of the two types; 
otherwise there is a risk of confusing normal stress with light 
stress, and of being misled into thinking that, when the heavy 
stress is absent from a distinguishing adjective, the adjective 
is therefore proclitic. It may be further noted that, where the 
French feels the need of making the distinction which the 
English renders by heavy stress, it usually accomplishes this 
either by adding an intensive adverb to the adjective, or by 
recasting the sentence in such a way as to increase the promi- 
nence of the adjective. 

In order to simplify as far as possible the discussion, 
expiratory force is the only element in accent that has so 
far been considered. The other main element involved, the 
difference in pitch which is invariably associated with differ- 
ence in stress, is subject to modification by factors extraneous 
to the subject of this paper. In general, greater expiratory 


force and higher pitch are regularly associated; but as this 
accent-pitch frequently shades off, even within the same 
syllable, into a much lower or a much higher note due 
to the sentence inflexion, it is difficult to analyze it simply 
with the aid of the ear. 6 

In many of the sentences used as illustrations, another 
speaker might accent the adjectives in a different fashion, or 
my own accentuation might vary according to the context. 
This is natural, but it implies, not an invalidation of the fore- 
going analysis, but a change in the character of the adjective 
according to the setting, or even according to the speaker's 
point of view. In written English, more responsibility is 
thrown on the reader for the interpretation of the character 
of the adjective than in written French, since the adjective 
stress, which would furnish in English the key, is not indi- 
cated and must be decided from the context or from the 
reader's own feeling. It should, however, be recognized that 
the question of how near the " light-stressed " adjective 
approaches to being fully proclitic, and the exact amount of 
stress that should be embraced in the term " normal-stress/' 
are problems too delicate for the lines of demarcation to be 
rigorously determined by the ear, particularly by the ear of 
a single observer. 7 

6 An effort to note by the ear and to indicate by means of curved 
lines the pitch of the sounds and syllables in specimens of English, 
French and German prose and verse has beei\ made by Daniel Jones in 
Intonation Curves, Leipzig, Teubner, 1909, 80 pp. Professor Hermann 
Collitz of the Johns Hopkins University is making a careful study 
of the pitch of adjectives in connected discourse; I am indebted to 
him for helpful criticisms and suggestions, and for the term 
" normal " as applied to adjectives with the prevailing accentuation. 

7 Sweet (Phil. Soc. Transactions, 1880-81: Proceedings, pp. 4-6, 
and pp. 26-27 ; and Primer of Spoken English* Oxford, 1906, pp. 2-3, 
and pp. 27-31) has discussed the accent of word combinations, 
paying special attention to the stress of compound words. Of adjec- 
tives he merely says (Primer, p. 29) that in the combination of 
adjectives with nouns even stress is the rule. Svedelius ("Sur la 

264 ARMSTRONG [14 

It is interesting to parallel corresponding passages in 
French and English with a view to comparing the treatment 
of the adjectives. An experiment upon one of Poe ? s stories 
and Charles Baudelaire's translation led me to mistrust the 
use of an English text as the basis, since the translator seems 
by the placing of the English adjectives to be disposed to 
an abnormally frequent use of fore-position. This disturbing 
element can be eliminated if a work is chosen for which the 
French text forms the original version, though the delicate 
shadings given by the French position is then not infrequently 
missing from the translation. 

Since in many instances the interpretation of the character 
of the adjectives is a matter of view point, as may be seen 
from the possibility of hesitating, in not a few cases within 
the French itself, between fore-position and post-position, 
and since the differences in mental attitude toward the specific 
adjectives are likely to be numerous when we pass from the 
French to another language, it is to be anticipated that there 
will be a lack of exact correspondence in individual instances 
between French position and English stress. Further, as the 
accentual interpretation of an English passage is difficult 
to determine with accuracy and depends upon the reader, 
the elements of uncertainty are too numerous to make definite 
statistics attainable, or the attempt to attain them of any 
great value. I have, however, ventured to count and classify 
the adjective usage in the opening pages of France's Grime 
de Sylvestre Bonnard, 8 using for the English the translation 
of Lafcadio Hearn. 9 

place de l'adjectif qualificatif français," Mélanges-Wahlund, Macon, 
1896, pp. 75-93) suggested a parallelism between position in the 
French adjective and stress in the German, a suggestion which met 
with disapproval from the critics (See Tobler, ASNS., Vol. 96, p. 

8 Paris, Calmann-Lévy, pp. 1-17. 

9 New York, Harper, 1890, pp. 1-14. For a portion of the text 
of the comparison see the end of this chapter. 


I include only those adjectives of the French text preserved 
as attributive adjectives in the English translation. Accord- 
ing to my reading of the adjective accent in the English, I 
found the following situation : (a) Out of the cases of French 
post-position (61 in all), the English shows normal stress 
or heavy stress in 58 cases, and light stress in 3 cases; or 
almost complete agreement, (b) In the cases of fore-position 
where the adjectives are such as would precede even if they 
serve to distinguish (50 in all), the English shows light stress 
in 33 cases, and normal stress or heavy stress in 17 cases. 
This class is naturally of little value for purposes of compari- 
son, (c) There are 31 other cases of fore-position. Here 
the light stress which in English would represent the equiv- 
alent occurs in only 14 cases, the other 17 having normal stress 
or heavy stress. 

A similar analysis of the first chapter of Mérimée's 
Colomba 10 shows agreement according to my interpretation, 
as follows: for (a), in 24 cases out of 24; for (&), in 10 
cases out of 14; for (c), in only 4 cases out of 11. 

The above figures would indicate that the tendency to 
interpret adjectives as epithets, in which modern French, and 
particularly modern conversational French, shows moderation, 
is even less in vogue in English. That such a tendency 
is not wholly lacking in English appears with especial clear- 
ness in many of the examples of group (6), but the English 
tends strongly the other way. In fact the testimony for this 
in the passages I have chosen is possibly even more pronounced 
than my figures indicate, since I believe that the average 
reader, where his interpretation differs from mine, would 
decrease rather than increase the number of cases of light 

It is manifest that the general equivalence between French 
position and English accent is too difficult of application and 

"Boston, Heath, 1899; and English translation by the Lady Mary 
Loyd, New York, Collier, 1901. 

266 ARMSTRONG [16 

too subjective in character to be of the slightest value as a 
rule of thumb; and yet a comprehension of the principle 
conduces to a clearer perception of the delicate and delicious 
savor of a French adjective discriminatingly placed. 

As to the relative merit of the methods employed in the 
two languages to differentiate between distinguishing adjec- 
tives and epithets, each system has its advantages. The 
English provides a ready and effective means for a speaker 
to give the desired shading as he renders his thought into 
words, but does not as satisfactorily lend itself to the reconsti- 
tution of an author's thought from its written expression, 
and therefore puts an extra burden on the reader. The French 
facilitates the rendering of shadings through the written 
form, and thus possesses a stylistic resource lacking in the 
written English. Literary French, in the search for stylistic 
effect, tends to strengthen the use of epithets, and French 
grammarians, in helping to associate certain meanings with 
fore-position, have aided this tendency. English, in which 
the difference between epithet and distinguishing adjective 
can not be indicated in the written form and has remained 
beyond the touch or ken of grammarians, shows a much rarer 
use of the epithet. Spoken French will naturally be found 
in this respect in closer accord with English than is written 

As a specimen of the system used in comparing adjectives in the 
two languages, I append about one half of the passage from Anatole 
France for which statistics have been given in this chapter, joining 
to it Hearn's translation. I omit a number of clauses and sentences 
containing no attributive adjectives preserved as such in the transla- 
tion. As already said, the English stress as here noted represents 
simply the present author's interpretation of his own pronunciation. 
Others would certainly in some cases read the words with a different 
stress. The symbols inserted in brackets after the adjectives of 
the French text are to be interpreted as follows: 

[1]: the French adjective is in post- position ; the English shows 
accord by employing a normal-stressed or heavy-stressed adjective. 

[lx] : The French adjective is in post-position; the English, on 
the contrary, employs a light-stressed adjective. 


[2]: the French adjective is in fore-position; the English shows 
accord by employing a light-stressed adjective. 

[2x] : the French adjective is in fore-position; the English, on 
the contrary, employs a normal- stressed or heavy-stressed adjective. 

[3] : the French adjective is in fore-position, but is one of the 
adjectives which precede whether used as epithets or not; the English 
employs a light-stressed adjective. 

[3x] : the French adjective is in fore-position, but is one of the 
adjectives which precede whether used as epithets or not; the 
English employs a normal-stressed or heavy-stressed adjective. 

Un souffle égal [1] soulevait sa fourrure épaisse [1] et légère [1]. 

His thick fine fur rose and fell with his regular breathing. 
A mon approche, il coula doucement ses prunelles d'agate entre ses 
At my coming, he slowly slipped a glance of his agate eyes at me from 
paupières mi-closes [1] qu'il referma presque aussitôt. . . . 
between his half-opened lids, which he closed again almost at once. . . . 
Hamilcar, prince somnolent [1] de la cité des' livres, gardien 
Hamilcar, somnolent Prince of the City of Books — thou guardian 
nocturne! tu défends contre de vils [2] rongeurs les manuscrits 
nocturnal! Thou dost defend from vile nibblers those books 
et les imprimés que le vieux [3] savant acquit au prix d'un modique 
which the old savant acquired at the cost of his slender savings 
[2x] pécule et d'un zèle infatigable [1]. Dans cette bibliothèque 
and indefatigable zeal. Sleep, Hamilcar, softly 

silencieuse, que protègent tes vertus militaires [1], Hamilcar, dors 
as a sultana, in this library that shelters thy military virtues; 
avec la mollesse d'une sultane! Car tu réunis en ta personne 
for verily in thy person are united the formidable aspect of a 
l'aspect formidable [1] d'un guerrier tartare [1] à la grâce appe- 
Tartar warrior and the slumbrous grace of a woman of the Orient, 
santie [1] d'une femme d'Orient. Héroïque [2] et voluptueux [2] 

Sleep, thou heroic and voluptuous 
Hamilcar, dors en attendant l'heure où les souris danseront, au 
Hamilcar, while awaiting that moonlight hour in which the mice 
clair de la lune, devant les Acta Sanctorum des doctes [2] 
will come forth to danse before the Acta Sanctorum of the learned 
Bollandistes. . . . Hamilcar m'avertit en abaissant les oreilles et 
Bollandists. . . . Hamilcar notified me by lowering his ears and 

268 ARMSTRONG [18 

en plissant la peau zébrée [1] de son front, qu'il était malséant de 
by wrinkling the striped skin of his brow that it was bad taste on 
déclamer ainsi. . . . C'était un petit [3x] homme, un 

my part so to declaim. ... He was a little man — a poor little 
pauvre [3] petit [3] homme de mine chétive [1], vêtu d'une mince 
man of puny appearance, wearing a thin jacket. 

[2x] jaquette. Il s'avança vers moi en faisant une quantité de 
He approached me with a number of little bows and 
petits [3] saluts et de petits sourires. ... Je songeai, en le voyant, 
smiles. ... I thought, as I looked 

à un écureuil blessé [1]. Il portait sous son bras une toilette 

at him, of a wounded squirrel. He carried under his arm a green 
verte [1] qu'il posa sur une chaise; puis, défaisant les quatre [3] 
toilette, which he put upon a chair ; then unfastening the four corners 
oreilles de la toilette, il découvrit un tas de petits [3] livres 
of the toilette, he uncovered a heap of little yellow books. . . . 
jaunes [1]. . . . Je fais la place pour les principales [2x] maisons 
I represent the leading houses of the capital, and 
de la capitale, et, dans l'espoir que vous voudrez bien m'honorer 
in the hope that you will kindly honor me with your confidence, 
de votre confiance, je prends la liberté de vous offrir quelques [3] 
I take the liberty to offer you a few novelties, 
nouveautés. Dieux bons! [1] dieux justes! [1] quelles nouveautés 
Kind gods! just gods! such novelties as the homunculus 
m'offrit l'homonculus Coccoz! Le premier [3x] volume qu'il me 
Coccoz showed me! The first volume that he put in 

mit dans la main fut l'Histoire de la Tour de Nesle. . . . C'est un 
my hand was l'Histoire de la Tour de Nesle. ... It is a 

livre historique [1], me dit-il en souriant, un livre d'histoire 
historical book, he said to me, with a smile — a book of real 
véritable [1]. . . . Vous risqueriez de la garder toute [3] votre 
history. . . . You would run the risk of keeping it all your 

vie dans votre serge verte. . . . Certainement, monsieur, me 

life in that green-baize of yours. . . . Certainly, Monsieur, the little 
répondit le petit [3] homme, par pure [2] complaisance. . . Si vous 
man answered, out of pure good-nature. ... If you 

voulez me rappeler les règles du bésigue, rendez-moi mon vieil [3] 
want to make me remember the rules of bésigue, give me back my 
ami Bignan, avec qui je jouais aux cartes, chaque [3] soir, avant que 
old friend Bignan, with whom I used to play cards every evening 


les cinq [3] académies l'eussent conduit solennement au cimetière, 
before the Five Academies solemnly escorted him to the cemetery; 
ou bien encore abaissez à la frivolité des jeux humaines [1] la 
or else bring down to the frivolous level of human amusements the 
grave [2] intelligence d'Hamilcar que vous voyez dormant sur ce 
grave intelligence of Hamilcar, whom you see on that cushion, for he 
coussin, car il est aujourd'hui le seul [3x] compagnon de mes soirées. 
is the sole companion of my evenings. 

Le sourire du petit [3] homme devint vague et effaré. Voici, me 
The little man's smile became vague and uneasy. Here, he 

dit-il, un recueil nouveau [1] de divertissements de société, facéties et 
said, is a new collection of society amusements — jokes and puns — 
calembours, avec les moyens de changer une rose rouge [1] en rose 
with a recipe for changing a red rose to a white rose. . . . 
blanche [1]. . . . Quant aux facéties, il me suffisait de celles que 
As to jokes I was satisfied with those which I 
je me permettais, sans le savoir, dans le cours de mes travaux 
unconsciously permitted myself to make in the course of my scientific 
scientifiques [1]. L'homonculus m'offrit son dernier [3x] livre avec 
labors. The homunculus offered me his last book, with 

son dernier [3x] sourire. . . . J'avais saisi les pincettes, et c'est 
his last smile. ... I had taken hold of the tongs, and, 

en les agitant avec vivacité que je répondis à mon visiteur com- 
brandishing them energetically, I replied to my commercial visi- 
mercial [1]. . . . Votre petit [3] livre jaune [lx] me donnera-t-il 
tor. ... Is your little yellow book able to give me the 

la clef de celui-là?. ... Le livre est complet et pas cher: un [3x] 
key to that?. . . . The book is complete, and not dear — one 

franc vingt-cinq [3x] centimes, monsieur. ... Je puis dire chaque 
franc twenty-five centimes, Monsieur. ... I am able to say 

[3] soir: Seigneur. . . . Ayant ainsi parlé, ma gouvernante aida 
every night: Lord. . . . And with these words my housekeeper 
le petit [3] homme à renfermer sa pacotille dans la toilette 
helped the little man to fasten up his stock again within the green 
verte [1]. L'homonculus Coccoz ne souriait plus. Ses 

toilette. The homunculus Coccoz had ceased to smile. His 

traits détendus [1] prirent une telle expression de souffrance que 
relaxed features took such an expression of suffering that I felt 
je fus aux regrets d'avoir raillé un homme aussi malheureux [1]. 
sorry to have made fun of so unhappy a man. 

270 ARMSTRONG [20 

Je le rappelai et lui dis que j'avais lorgné du coin de l'œil l'Histoire 
I called him back, and told him that I had caught a glimpse of a copy 
d'Estelle et de Némorin, ... et que j'achèterais volontiers, à un 
of the Histoire d'Estelle et de Némorin, . . . and that I would be 
prix raisonable [1], l'histoire de ces deux [3] parfaits [2x] amants, 
quite willing to purchase, at a reasonable price, the story of those 
Je vous vendrai ce livre un [3x] franc vingt- 
two perfect lovers. I will sell you that book for one franc twenty- 
cinq, monsieur, me répondit Coccoz. ... Je vous apporterai de- 
five centimes, Monsieur, replied Coccoz. . . . Tomorrow I will bring 
main les Crimes des papes. C'est un bon [3] ouvrage. Je vous 
you the Crimes des Papes. It is a good book. I will 
apporterai l'édition d'amateur, avec les figures coloriées [1]. . . . 
bring you the édition d'amateur, with colored plates. ... 
Quand la toilette verte [1] se fut évanouie avec le colporteur dans 
When the green toilette and the agent had disappeared in the shadow 
l'ombre du corridor, je demandai à ma gouvernante d'où nous était 
of the corridor I asked my housekeeper whence this little man had 
tombé ce pauvre petit [3] homme. ... Il a une femme, dites vous, 
dropped upon us. . . . You say he has a wife, 
Thérèse? Cela est merveilleux! Les femmes sont de bien étranges 
Thérèse ? That is marvelous ! Women are very strange creatures ! 
[2x] créatures. Celle-ci doit être une pauvre [2] petite [3] femme. 
This one must be a very unfortunate little woman. 
Je ne sais trop ce qu'elle est, me répondit Thérèse. . . . Elle coule 
I don't really know what she is, answered Thérèse. . . . She makes 
des yeux luisants [1]. . . . On les a pris dans le grenier. ... en 
soft eyes at people. . . . They allowed the couple to occupy the 
considération de ce que le mari est malade et la femme dans un état 
attic in consideration of the fact that the husband is sick and the 
intéressant [1]. . . . Ils avaient bien besoin 
wife in an interesting condition. . . . They must have been very 
d'avoir un enfant! Thérèse, répondis- je, ils n'en avaient sans 
badly off for a child! Thérèse, I replied, they had no need of a 
doute nul [3x] besoin. ... Il faut une prudence exemplaire [1] 
child, doubtless. . . . One must have exceptional prudence to 
pour déjouer les ruses de la nature. . . . Quant aux robes de soie, 
defeat Nature's schemes. ... As for silk dresses, there 
il n'est pas de jeune [3] femme qui ne les aime. . . . Vous-même, 
is no young woman who does not Hke them. . . You your- 


Thérèse, qui êtes grave et sage, quels cris vous poussez quand il 
self, Thérèse — who are so serious and sensible — What a fuss you 
vous manque un tablier blanc [lx] pour servir à table! . . . 
make when you have no white apron to wait at table in! ... 


Having finished this somewhat detailed comparison of the 
French and the English adjectives, we are perhaps prepared 
to attempt an answer to the questions raised at the beginning. 
It is manifest, in the first place, that position plays no part, 
for contemporary English, in determining the character of 
attributive adjectives. We have seen, however, that there 
exists a method of indicating in English the distinctions 
which are made in French. The distinguishing adjective is 
accented, this accent varying from a somewhat light stress to 
a stress so pronounced that, in the case of emphatic or con- 
trasted adjectives, it is the main stress in the combination 
formed by adjective and noun ; the epithet, on the other hand, 
is so lightly stressed that it may be accounted proclitic. 
Such a difference is natural, for the proclitic adjective pushes 
the attention on to an accent-bearing noun which it serves 
to augment or diminish; while the full-stressed adjective 
holds the thought to the quality which delimits the sub-class 
to be distinguished. 

This situation in English causes us to turn our thought 
anew to the French. Can the accent, the all-important 
feature in English, play a part also in the French? There 
the augmenting adjective always precedes the noun, and, 
as is shown by its inviolable liaison, is intimately joined 
to it. The distinguishing adjective, except in certain speci- 
fic cases which are probably fossils, follows the noun, and the 
tendency to omit liaison is strong evidence of a pause between 
noun and adjective. Now in French the main stress-accent 
tends to fall uniformly upon the end of the word group. 
If the union of the elements of the group is so intimate that 

272 ARMSTRONG [22 

they constitute practically a unit, the parts preceding this 
end-accent tend to be proclitic; if the group is more loosely 
connected, a stress will occur in each part, but the main 
stress still remains at the end of the whole. In other words, 
the French situation is similar to the English: in a combi- 
nation of epithet and noun, the noun alone is accented; while 
in a combination of distinguishing adjective and noun, adjec- 
tive as well as noun receives an accent. C'est un parfait en- 
fant' and c'est un enfant' | parfait 7 do not differ from 
he is a perfect child' and he is a per'fect | child'. This being 
the case, the shifts in French adjective position are presumably 
not due to any basal connection between post-position and 
the making of a logical distinction, but arise from the exi- 
gencies of the French accent, which can not, as in English, 
be shifted at will to any element in the phrase, regardless 
of its location. The shift in position is then due to the 
same cause which has developed in French the types: c'est 
lui' qui l'a fait and il l'a fait, lui' as the equivalents of 
the English he' did it. If this be true, it is evident that 
the position of the French attributive adjective has, in the 
question of the theoretically proper place for the adjective, no 
such import as the shifts in that position have often been 
assumed to indicate. 

One more point in the French requires attention. In the 
case of the small group of adjectives which uniformly precede 
the noun (bon, mauvais, grand, petit, vieux, jeune, etc.), 
does the French, when such adjectives serve to make a logical 
distinction, have any way of indicating this to the ear? 
The logical stress would here tend to fall on the adjective, 
but this is opposed by the tendency of the phrase stress to 
fall on the end word. My observation leads me to think 
that from these opposing tendencies there results a compromise 
by which the main stress remains on the noun, but a light 
stress falls also on the adjective ; so that, in : si le canif 
n'est pas dans le petit tiroir, vous le trouverez sans 
doute dans l'autre, there is a stress on the adjective suffi- 


cient to distinguish it from petit in : mais regardez done le 
petit garçon. This is ? however, a matter that could be 
definitely determined only by the apparatus of the experi- 
mental phoneticians. 

Clédat 1X has called attention to the close similarity in value 
between decorative epithets and augmentative and detractive 
suffixes. Notice the kindred meanings of gouttelette and 
petite goutte, poulette and jeune poule, ballon and 
grande balle, salon and grande salle, paperasses and 
mauvais papiers. Epithets and suffixes of the kind will 
alike attach themselves with especial readiness to objects 
with which, in our daily life, we come in frequent contact, 
and of which many play a part in contributing to or dimin- 
ishing our physical or spiritual well-being. We know what 
a great extension of emotional suffixes there was in Folk 
Latin; the generalization of fore-position for the commoner 
adjectives of size and age and quality bears witness to a 
similarly strong tendency in the Folk Latin to employ ad- 
jectives for purposes of emotional attribution. The two pro- 
cesses are alike forms of word composition; for, just as 
the one is accomplished by the addition of a suffix, so the 
other constitutes the joining on of a prefix, the proclitic 
adjective being in reality little else than this. 

The question of the position of the adjective in French 
is so closely related to the same question for the other Eomance 
languages that it can not receive definitive treatment in studies 
restricted to the one speech; but much less has been done 
in detailed study of the position of the adjective in these 
other languages, and in the investigation of their phrase 
accent, so that extensive preliminary analysis would be 
necessary before a synthetic treatment could be undertaken. 
This much, however, is already manifest: the rules which 
apply to the placing of adjectives in the remaining Eomance 
tongues are so similar to those prevailing in French that, 

"RPhF., Vol. xv, pp. 243-244. 

274 ARMSTRONG [24 

if, as here claimed, it is the rising phrase accent which 
determined the character of the French adjective shifts, we 
should definitely expect the Eomance phrase accent in general 
to be likewise a crescendo. It is not essential to the correct- 
ness of the theory as applied to French that all its details 
should be applicable to the rest of the territory; it is essential 
that the whole group of kindred speeches possess, or at an 
earlier period possessed, a rising phrase stress. That such is 
the general stress is borne out, for the Spanish at least, by 
an examination of the phonetic transcription of Spanish texts 
given by Araujo in the Phonetische Studien. 12 Two grades 
of accent are indicated in this transcription, and, no matter 
where else a stress falls, there is almost invariably a heavy 
stress noted for the last accented syllable of the breath groups 
or sense groups. For the Italian I have found no treatment 
of this subject, but my own impression, which coincides with 
the opinion of others I have consulted, is that the same 
status exists also in that language. 

Thus the conclusions at which I have arrived in the course 
of my study are that the English has a parallel for the French 
adjective shift; that this English parallel throws light on 
the true meaning of the French varying position; and that 
this interpretation of the French status in the light of the 
English finds confirmation in a least one other Eomance 

12 Vol. vi, pp. 44-62; 134-150; 257-273. Compare also the following 
statements of Araujo {ibid., vol. v, p. 159; repeated in his Estudios 
de fonetika castellana, Paris, 1894, p. 118) : "La formation des 
groupes d'accentuation est très indéterminée, et il est très difficile de 
saisir les règles auxquelles elle est soumise. . . . Par-dessus toutes 
ces variations, on peut reconnaître toutefois que dans les mots qui 
finissent les vers ou les phrases, l'accent du groupe est celui qui 
correspond au mot final." Araujo further says {PS., vol. v, pp. 
143-144, and Estudios, p. 97) that monosyllabic adjectives, when 
they precede, are weak, and, when they follow, become strong; 
giving as examples vil enemigo, enemigo vil ; fiel amante, amante fiel. 





A. Terracher 

En Angoumois (et en Saintonge), 2 le démonstratif eccu-ille 
présente les formes régionales 3 que voici : 

1 a) Pour l'époque ancienne, v. E. Gôrlich, die siidwestlichen Dialecte der 
langue d'oïl. Poitou, Aunis, Saintonge und Angoumois. Heilbronn, 1882 
(Franzosische Studien, m, 2), p. 110-111 (cf., en outre, p. 28-30 ; 72 ; 108- 
109); W. Cloetta, Le mystère de l'époux (Romania, xxn (1893), p. 177- 
229, spécialement p. 181, 185, 189, 192-193 et note). 

6) Pour l'époque moderne, v. Atlas linguistique de la France, carte 209 
(. . . ceux qui . . .); E. Herzog, Neufranz'ôsische Dialekttexte (Sammlung 
romanischer Lesebücher, t. i), Leipzig, 1906, p. 49-56 (Poitevinisch, nos. 
25 à 29) et Einleitung, p. 62-64. 

e) La carte qui accompagne cette étude a été dressée à l'aide des maté- 
riaux que j'ai moi-même recueillis sur place. — Comme il m'est impossible 
d'user toujours dans le texte de la notation phonétique employée pour la 
carte, je me servirai des signes que voici : ' marque l'accent tonique ; . 
indique une voyelle fermée, t une voyelle ouverte ; œ — e muet. 

2 Le Poitou — au moins le Poitou du nord — ne présente pas, semble-t-il, 
le même phénomène. La carte 209 de l' Atlas linguistique ne permet pas de 
se prononcer : dans l'ouest de la Vendée, dans les Deux-Sèvres et dans la 
Vienne, ¡cela Ici (= ceux qui; cf. kele : 479, île d'Yeu) est sans doute la 
traduction de "ceux-fâ qui " (on a, pour le pronom, kle la ki en Saintonge 
et en Angoumois) : une carte de ces (garçons, filles) serait nécessaire. Dans 
Herzog, je ne rencontre d'exemples que pour la Charente (no. 25, 1. 11 et 
13) et la Charente-Inférieure (no. 26, 1. 40 ; no. 27, 1. 36); pour les Deux- 
Sèvres, on ne trouve que tyë mase, et fém. (no. 28, 1. 9, 13, 17, 54 ; no. 29, 
1. 36), v. encore Revue des patois gallo-romans, I, 130 (Mazières: kyë sœt 
"ces sept," fém.). A supposer que kyë, tyë des Deux-Sèvres représente 
bien kelë (~> klë -> kl'ë, -> kyë, tyë) (v. L. Favre, Parabole de l'enfant 
prodigue en divers dialectes, patois de la France, p. 144 : thiellaie mase, dans 
les Deux-Sèvres) et non pas seulement une forme palatali sée de kê (eccu- 
illos), le pluriel allongé n'existerait en tout cas que dans la partie méri- 
dionale du département. 

3 Je néglige les phénomènes secondaires de palatalisation et — pour l'in- 
stant — le fém. plur. kelá dans l'est de l' Angoumois. 

1] 275 


[in 1 


devant consonne 


kêl ' ' voyelle 


raasc. \ k(e)lê devant consonne 
etîém '\k(e)lez " voyelle. 

féminin kêl 

Parallèlement, on a pour eccu-iste 4 : au singulier kê (ou Jcêt) 
pour le masculin, két pour le féminin ; au pluriel k(e)tè(z) 
pour les deux genres. 

Les formes du singulier s'expliquent d'elles-mêmes ; l'origine 
du pluriel allongé (hele et ketè) est moins claire. 

A ma connaissance, on a proposé jusqu'ici deux explications 
de ce pluriel, l'une phonétique, l'autre analogique. La première 
en date (explication phonétique), due à M. Rousselot, 5 peut se 
résumer ainsi : à Cellefrouin, -as atone est représenté par -e (p. 
ex., au pluriel des substantifs et adjectifs féminins : váccas -* 
vache, bônas -* bonne ; dans les désinences verbales : cantas -> 
châte ; etc. ) : on y a donc eccu-illas -* kele, nostras -> notre, 
*vostras -» votre. Cet e, caractéristique du féminin pluriel, s'est 
étendu au masculin aussi bien dans les mots anciens (bü bovem, 
plur. bue) que dans les termes empruntés récemment au français 
(jadârm << gendarme >, plur. jâdârme) ; de là eccu-illos -» 
Ícele, comme — et d'après — eccu-illas, nostros -* notre, etc. Mais, 
tandis que Ve de flexion nominale et verbale tend à dispa- 
raître, l'emploi proclitique de kele, notre, etc., a maintenu cet 
e qui s'est allongé, d'où k(e)lë, notre, etc. 

La seconde explication, toute récente, émane de M. Bourciez 6 : 
dans la naissance de la forme kele, * ' il ne saurait être question 
d'un développement phonétique proprement dit" et il faut 
songer à une influence analogique. L'article défini a dû servir 

* eccu-iste, démonstratif de proximité, n'existe— du moins en Angoumois 
— que dans des expressions figées : d ke ta " de ce temps," ket âne "cette 
année," dà ktëjur " dans ces jours " (pluriel très rare). 

h Devocabulorum congruentia in rustico Cellae-Fruini sermone, Parisiis, 1892, 
p. 14, n. 1 et p. 22 ; comparer Les modifications phonétiques du langage 
étudiées dans le patois d'une famille de Cellefrouin (Charente), Paris, 1892, 
p. 283. 

6 Le Démonstratif dans la Petite Gavacherie (Mélanges Wilmotte, Paris, 
1910, p. 57-67). 


de point de départ : ou bien "le féminin pluriel ikelœ(s) a eu 
sa finale purement et simplement influencée par l'article le(s) " 
et " s'est ensuite transmis au masculin " ; ou bien (et M. Bour- 
riez penche pour cette seconde hypothèse) il s'est établi une sorte 
de proportionnalité, d'abord devant les noms commençant par 
une voyelle : on disait l om, lez om, un singulier kel om aura 
appelé un pluriel kelez om. 


L'explication de M. Bourciez a le défaut de négliger les 
pluriels allongés des possessifs "nos" (notre), "vos" (votre), 
etc. Or, si l'on peut à la rigueur admettre une proportion- 
nalité 7 

l om : lez om, 
kel " : ke/ez om, 

il est plus difficile d'expliquer par le même procédé la formation 
de ketè, noire, voire, etc., à moins de supposer qu'ils ont été 
refaits d'après ícele qui avait 50 chances pour 100 de ne pas 
naître. De plus, kelë, notre, etc. , se rencontrent en Angoumois 
non-seulement dans la région où le pluriel de l'article défini est 
le pour les deux genres, mais aussi où l'on a loü pour le mas- 
culin et là pour le féminin — ce qui écarte, à mon sens, toute 
explication par une influence analogique. 8 

Je crois qu'il faut accepter l'explication phonétique de M. 
Rousselot, mais en la précisant et la complétant. — Remarquons, 
d'abord, que eecu-illl, eccu-illos ont dû être employés comme 
proclitiques dès l'origine: on attend, dès lors, *kil, *kels 
(formes du français et du provençal littéraires) et non kelë. — 
L'étude d'une partie de l' Angoumois où l'on distingue entre le 
masculin kï 9 et le féminin kelë m' amène à proposer une expli- 
cation un peu différente de celle de M. Rousselot. 

7 Ou, plus exactement, une demi-proportionnalité, puisque le parallé- 
lisme n'existe pas devant les mots commençant par une consonne. 

8 La première hypothèse de M. Bourciez (le féminin ikelœ(s) -> ikele(s) 
(sous l'influence de le(s) article) étendu au masculin) admet en outre que 
les formes du féminin puissent gagner le masculin, alors que — pour le 
pluriel du démonstratif — c'est l'inverse qui s'est produit en français. 

9 M. Rousselot (Modif. phonêt., p. 231) signale kl à Saint-Claud, près de 


La carte ci -jointe est celle d'une région de l'Angoumois tra- 
versée par la "-limite du français et du provençal " ( — • — 

— • — ). 10 A l'est de cette limite, on distingue, au pluriel de 
l'article défini, le masculin loû du féminin là (provençal); à 
l'ouest, on a pour les deux genres une forme unique le (fran- 
çais). Le domaine provençal de cette région n'est pas homo- 
gène : à l'est de la ligne formée par les trois limites , 

— — — — et , — as atone des substantifs et adjectifs 

féminins pluriels (et des désinences verbales) existe encore 
(plus ou moins menacé) ; à l'ouest, au contraire, on n'en trouve 
aucune trace ni aucun souvenir. — Or, partout où — as atone est 
conservé, on distingue, au pluriel du démonstratif, entre le 
masculin kl et le féminin hele (kelá); 11 partout où — as atone 
a disparu, on trouve une forme unique kelè pour les deux 
genres. — L'on a ainsi, en allant de l'ouest à l'est, trois zones : 

f I). article défini: le mase, et fém. 

et possessifs : hele, notre, etc., mase, et fém. 
■as atone J 
dis ru j II). article défini : mase, loû, fém. là, 


et possessifs : kelè, notre, etc., pour les deux 

fill), article défini : mase, loû, fém. là. 
— as atone j démonstratif 

conservé, j et possessifs : mase, kl, notre; fém. hele (á), 

[ notre ( — a) ; etc. 

Cellefrouin, et le rattache à eccu-isti. — Il me semble plus naturel — au 
moins pour la région que j'ai explorée — de considérer kï (kïz devant 
voyelle) comme représentant eccu-illos -> *kels -> kï (d'après eccu-illi); cf. 
Appel, Provenzalische Chrestomathie,* p. xvi, c. 

10 Cette limite est simplement celle de la distinction des genres au pluriel 
de l'article défini; je n'use de "français" et de "provençal" que pour 
des raisons de commodité. 

11 Dans la région occupée par les hachures en rouge, kelè est en train de 
supplanter un masculin kï plus ancien ; il n'y a pas là extension du 
féminin {kelè) au masculin, mais pénétration du type uniformisé de l'ouest 
et du nord-ouest. 


*Keloù(z), *kelà(z) n'existant pas dans les zones II et III, 12 
l'explication de M. Bourciez ne vaut pas pour ces zones ; kelë, 
kelà féminins n'ayant pas influencé le masculin là dans la zone 
III, l'explication de M. Rousselot est insuffisante. 13 

L'examen des formes que présentent les pronoms possessifs du 
pluriel (non proclitiques) dans la zone III ( — as atone con- 
servé) nous met sur la voie. —L'aire où — as -> -e (de Terre- 
bour à Agris, comme à Cellefrouin), laisse place au doute : 
dans loü, là, nôtre (ou de plus en plus fréquemment, nôtr) " les 
nôtres," 1' e du masculin pourrait provenir de F e du féminin 
auquel il est identique. — Par contre, de Rivières à Anthieu, les 
deux formes sont distinctes : — as y est en effet représenté non 
plus par -e, mais par -a§y qui ne devient -e qu'en position 
syntactique : ehataña§y "châtaignes," et d la bonne catañagy 
"des bonnes châtaignes." On y a, en conséquence, eccu-illas 
-> *kela§y -> kelë, eceu-illï (eccu illos) -> Ici ; nostras -> 
*notra§y -► notre (et notre aussi pour le masculin) ; pour 
les pronoms possessifs, au contraire, là notraçy fém. s'oppose à 
loü notre mase. Cet e du masculin est un e de soutien. — Il en 
est de même à Bunzac, Pranzac, la Brouterie, où — as atone 
-► -a : boiias vaccas -► bouna vâtsa ; eceu-illas (nostras) vaccas 
-ficela (nouotra) vâtsa; mais le masculin (lou) nouôtre "(les) 
nôtres (nos)" s'oppose au féminin (la) nouótra. — La géographie 
linguistique nous enseigne ainsi que dans le domaine où — as de 
flexion est conservé, 1' e s'est développé, dans les adjectifs pos- 
sessifs du pluriel comme dans les pronoms possessifs, d'un œ de 
soutien (après le groupe str) ; il ne s'est pas développé après II de 
eeeu-illi (eeeu-illos) -> kl. 

C'est à cet œ de soutien que je suis tenté de rattacher la for- 
mation du pluriel allongé kelë, notre, etc., en Saintonge et dans 

12 Kelâ(z) se rencontre dans une partie de la zone III, où tous les — as 
atones aboutissent à — a (Bunzac, Pranzac, etc.); mais *keloû au masculin 
n'existe nulle part en Angoumois. 

13 En effet, il n'y a pas lieu de supposer que eccu-illos ait été, dans 
l' Angoumois occidental et en Saintonge, moins proclitique que dans l'est 
de l' Angoumois et, au surplus, l'explication ne vaudrait pas pour les 
formes des possessifs dans la zone III. 


le reste de l'Angoumois. De eccu-illos, eccu-illas on a eu, en 
position syntactique et par suite d'un déplacement d'accent, 
*eccu-illós (caballos), *eccu-illás (váccas), de nóstros, nostras on 
a eu, de même, ^nostras (caballos), ^nostras (váccas); puis, 
tandis que 1' — as désinentiel disparaissait comme -os, -es, 
(vach " vaches," chat ''chantes," le notr, mase, et fém. "les 
nôtres," etc.) sans laisser de traces, les groupes proclitiques 
*eccu-illôs, *eccu-illás, ^nostras, ^nostras, etc., ont passé à 
*kelœ(s), *notrœ(s) et cet œ est devenu e sous l'accent, d'où 
les formes actuelles kelë(z), notrê(z), etc. 1 * 

S'il en est ainsi, pourquoi cette formation n'a-t-elle pris nais- 
sance que dans le sud-ouest de la langue d'oïl? Cela tient, je 
crois, à ce que le déplacement d'accent (qui se produit, p. ex., 
dans les 3 emes personnes du pluriel) est caractéristique des par- 
lers de cette région : hábent -» ava, cántant -» châtà, etc. 15 
— Enfin, si les pluriels allongés hele, notre n'apparaissent pas 
en Poitou, bien que le Poitou connaisse aussi le déplacement 
d'accent sur les désinences verbales, la raison en est sans doute 
que l'a final atone s'est amuï beaucoup plus tôt en Poitou qu'en 
Angoumois et en Saintonge (le Poitou n'offre que e dans les 
graphies les plus anciennes, tandis qu'on trouve a — quelque- 
fois même pour Y e de soutieu — à une époque assez tardive dans 
les chartes de Saintonge et d' Angoumois). 16 

U M. Bourciez, art. cité, p. 63-64, a posé la question de l'ancienneté 
du pluriel allongé qui, dit-il, "devait exister en Saintonge au XVI e 
siècle, peut-être dès le XV e ." — Etant donné que Turpin I (écrit en 
Angoumois, v. Gôrlich, o. c, p. 12) écrit parfois nostres "nos" au cas 
régime mase. plur. (id., p. 108) tandis que la traduction poitevine des 
Sermons de Maurice de Sully donne toujours noz, je crois que ce nostres 
(comme les formes analogues indiquées par Cloetta, art. cité, p. 189) doit 
s'interpréter par *notrë. L'invasion de noz dans les textes diplomatiques 
aussi bien que dans les textes littéraires s'est produite de bonne heure : cf., 
par ex., pour le féminin pluriel: "volons .... que nostres dettes saent 
paes et noz amendes. . ." (Archives Nationales, J. 407, pièce 5, (1283)). 

15 Voir Atlas linguistique de la France, cartes 93 (ont), 513 (étaient), etc. 
— Ce déplacement d'accent est beaucoup moins marqué dans la zone III 
(surtout au sud) que dans les zones I et II. 

16 Cf. Gorlich, p. 72, et surtout Cloetta, p. 181, 192-193 et la note des 
p. 193-194. 

. Limite occidentale de -as -* -á dans les substantifs et adjectifs féminins pluriels ; types : 

mase, (iû) riuotré, fém. (la) thtotrà ; mase. M (ou tï), fém. kelà. 

Limite occidentale de -as -> -aèy (-¿en position syntactique) ; types : mase, lú notre, fém. tó 

notraìy ; mase, et fém. «oír¿; mase. M, fém. kelç. 

Limite occidentale de -as -» -¿(plus ou moins disparu); types : mase, et fém. lu (la) 

notr(e) ; notre ; mase. kî, fém. kelç. 
IIIIIIIH Localités où fe/é mase, a triomphé ou triomphe d'un M plus ancien. 

A l'ouest de ces limites, types : mase, et fém. lé (ou, à l'est de la limite.»......-., lú mase., 

/á fém.) notr; not(r)ç ; kelé. 



George C. Keidel 


The history of literature in all times and in all countries 
fairly bristles with problems, and this general statement 
is especially true for any species of literature whose origins 
are to be found in the early Middle Ages, where Mediaeval 
Fable Literature takes its rise. 1 

1 The following are a few recent works of general scope which 
deal with fable literature in its broader aspects: 

a. For the latest general article on fable literature see the 

Encyclopœdia Britannica, Eleventh Edition, Vol. x, pp. 
114-116, s. v. Fable by F (rancis) S(torr). Cf. also Vol. n, 
p. 194: Apologue. The article on Fable is merely that 
of the Ninth Edition refurbished; that on Apologue is 
almost entirely new. 

b. Dr. Michele Marchiano, L'Origine della Favola Greca e i suoi 

Rapporti con le Favole Orientali. Trani: V. Vecchi, 1900. 
8vo, xii and 504 pp. Cf. G. C. K., 'Brief Mention,' in 
AJPh., Vol. xxi (1900), p. 476. 

c. H. T. Archibald, The Fable in Archilochus, Herodotus, Livy 

and Horace. (Abstract of Diss.) See PAPA., Vol. xxxm 
(1902), pp. lxxxviii-xc. Cf. also JHUC, Vol. xxix (1910), 
p. 38. 

d. G. B. Zoppi, La Morale della Favola (Tempi Antichi e 

Medioevo ) . Milano : tipografia editrice L. F. Cogliati, 
Corso Porta Romana 17, 1903. 8vo, vi and 264 pp. 

e. Aug. Wünsche, Die Pflanzenfabel in der Weltliteratur. Leipzig 

und Wien : Akademischer Ver lag fiir Kunst und Wissenschaf t, 
1905. 8vo, vi and 184 pp. 

1] 281 

282 KEIDEL [2 

It is true that iEsopic fable literature flourished in 
ancient times, but the real origins of the Mediaeval branch 
are to be sought in the Dark Ages following upon the Fall 
of Eome. Classical fable literature seems to have circulated 
among the folk chiefly in an oral form, for but few fable 
collections of moderate length have come down to us. These 
collections are, moreover, of a comparatively late date. A 
small number of stray fables from this period is also pre- 
served in the literary works of various Classical authors. 

The common people of the old Eoman Empire kept on 
telling the ^Esopic fables already known in previous times, 
and they also occasionally invented new ones, so that when 
the Dark Ages had at length passed away, and the various 
modern literatures began to be formed on a Mediaeval Latin 
background, there was in existence a very large number of 

At this stage of the development literary men began to 

f. Georg Silcher, Tierfabel, Tiermdrchen, und Tierepos, mit 

besonderer Berücksichtigung des Roman de Renart. Reut- 
lingen Prog. 1905. 4to, 33 pp. 

g. Oskar Dâhnhardt, Beitrâge zur vergleichenden Sagenforschung, 

in ZVV., Vols, xvi (1906), pp. 369-396; xvn (1907), pp. 

1-16, 129-143. See pp. 3-16: A. Aesopische Fabeln. 
h. Georg Thiele, Die Vorliterarische Fabel der Griechen, in 

NJ., Vol. xxi (1908), pp. 377-400. 
i. The Countess Evelyn Martinengo Cesaresco, The Place of 

Animals in Human Thought. London, Leipsic: T. Fisher 

Unwin, 1909. 8vo, 376 pp. See pp. 25, 29-30, 80-81, 351, 

j. Henry Osborn Taylor, The Mediœval Mind: A History of the 

Development of Thought and Emotion in the Middle Ages. 

London: Macmillan and Co., Limited, St. Martin's Street, 

1911. 2 vols. 8vo, xvi, 613; viii and 589 pp. (gives general 

k. Charles Mills Gayley, The Classic Myths in English Literature 

and in Art. New Edition. Boston, etc. : Ginn and Company, 

[1911]. 8vo, xlii and 597 pp. See pp. 1-2: Chap. I, §2: 

The Fable and the Myth. 


turn their attention to the fables and add a few of them 
to the traditional fable collections handed down from Classi- 
cal antiquity. Stray fables were also embodied in various 
literary works in considerable numbers, and these in turn 
were passed on from author to author in an unending 
chain. Side by side with these two currents practically 
the whole mass of fables continued to live on in the mouths 
of the people. Collections of fables when once formed were 
worked over in later centuries again and again, first in one 
language and then in another. As the result of all these 
extensive literary movements ^Esopic fable literature attained 
its greatest development towards the close of the Mediaeval 
period. 2 

Now while this general outline is essentially true in its 
main features, there are a great many questions in the 
various portions of the field which are still unanswered. 
It is the purpose of this article to indicate briefly the 
nature of some of these questions. 

2 The views presented in the present paper have been derived 
from the comparative study of fable literature made during the 
past twenty years in connection with the seminary work con- 
ducted at the Johns Hopkins University by the late Professor 
A. Marshall Elliott, while preparing on an elaborate scale a critical 
edition of the Fables of Marie de France. Cf. Prof. Elliott's 
announcement in MLN., Vol. vi (1891), col. 442; and A. Jeanroy, 
in La Grande Encyclopédie, s. v. Marie de France. As a large part 
of the material used was found in Mediaeval manuscripts and 
incunabula preserved in the libraries of Europe, it is in most 
instances impossible to refer to the published work of other 
scholars; and hence it is to be understood that in the absence 
of bibliographical notes the data used were obtained directly from 
the sources themselves. 

As a complement to these more general statements there have 
been added in the footnotes bibliographical data of various kinds. 
In the first place all the work on this subject published by the 
members of Professor Elliott's seminary is cited in its proper 
connection; and in the second place the representative work of 
other scholars during the last ten years is added in order to 
round out the survey of the whole field. 

284 KEIDEL [4 

Greek Influence 

The first large problem which naturally presents itself 
for consideration is the extent of Greek influence upon 
Mediaeval Fable Literature. It may be stated at the outset 
that this is probably the darkest and yet the most important of 
all such problems, and that we cannot do more here than indi- 
cate broadly the trend of the various streams of literary 
and oral transmission which emanated from Greece and 
reached Western Europe during the Middle Ages. 3 

3 For Classical Greek and Latin fable literature consult the 
following : 

a. Dott. G. Giurdanella Fusci, Babrio: Le sue Favole e il loro 
Rapporto con le Esopiane e con quelle di Fedro e di Aviano. 

Modica: tip. editrice Carlo Papa, 1910. 8vo, ii and 143 pp. 
o. Carolus Ulbricht, De Animalium Nominibus Aesopeis Capita 

Tria. Marpurgi Cattorum: typis academicis Joh. Aug. Koch, 

1908. 8vo, iv and 71 pp. Marburg Diss. 
e. Kudolf Smend, Alter und Herkunft des Achikar -Romans und 

sein Verhaltnis zu Aesop, in Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für 

die Alttestamentliche Wissenschaft, xni. Giessen: Alfred 

Topelmann (vormals J. Rickers Verlag), 1908. 8vo, viii 

and 125 pp. See pp. 55-125. 

d. (August) Hausrath, article on Fabel in Paulys Real-Encyclo- 

padie der class. Alter tumswiss. Neue Bearb. herausgegeben 
von Georg Wissowa. Vol. vi (1909), cols. 1704-1736. Of. 
also the articles on the individual fabulists, etc. 

e. For the latest bibliographical lists see Rudolf Klussmann, 

Bibliotheca Scriptorum Classicorum et Grœcorum et 
Latinorum, Bd. I, Teil 1. Leipzig: O. R. Reisland, 1909. 
See pp. 28-29, 197-203, 363-365, etc. 

f. For the latest survey see H. Draheim, Phàdrus und die 

rômische Fabelliteratur, in BJA., Vol. cxliii (1909), pp. 

g. Pius Knoll, Die Athoshandschrift des Babrios, in WSt., Vol. 

xxxi (1909), pp. 200-210. 
h. Articles on special authors in the Ency. Brit., xith Ed., 1910, 
are the following: 


a. Greek fable literature was certainly the chief back- 
ground of Latin fable literature in Classical times, and 
thus indirectly of all the fable literature descended from 
the latter. 

1). There was undoubtedly a certain amount of direct 
influence exerted by Greek fables in both a literary and an 
oral form upon Latin fable literature in the early Middle 
Ages, but definite facts can scarcely be cited. 

c. At the time of the Crusades it is likely that a con- 
siderable amount of Greek fable literature filtered back into 
Western Europe through the medium of those who returned 
from the East. Definite facts are again wanting. 4 

d. At other <times as well it is likely that ordinary 
pilgrims to the Holy Land brought back many Greek fables 
on their return home, but certain instances are not known. 

e. Finally at the time of the Eenaissance there was a large 
importation into Western Europe of Greek fables in a, literary 
form by way of Byzantium. It is this part of the Greek 
field which is at present better known to scholars than any 
other, but even here problems are numerous. For instance, 

Vol. i, pp. 276-277: JSsop; 
Vol. ii, p. 168: Aphthonius; 
Vol. Ill, pp. 59-60: Avianus; 
Vol. in, pp. 96-97: Babrius; etc. 
4 1 would attribute to this source the fable tradition discussed in 
the following works: 

a. Georgius Thiele, De Antiquorum Libris Pictis Capita Quattuor, 

scripsit — . Marpurgi Cattorum: impensis Elwerti bibliopola 
academici, 1897. 8vo, iv and 44 pp. ( Habilita tionsschrift ) . 
See pp. 36-43: De Aesopiarum fabularum picturis. 

b. G. Thiele, Der Illustrierte Lateinische Aesop in der Handschrift 

des Ademar. Codex Vossianus Lat. Oct. 15. Fol. 195-205 : 
Einleitung und Beschreibung. In Phototypischer Reproduc- 
tion, mit 5 Abbildungen im Text. Leiden: A. W. Sijthoff, 
1905. 4to, vi and 68 pp. with 22 plates. See especially pp. 

c. The preceding work is reviewed by Gustav G. Laubscher, MLN., 

Vol. xxiii (1908), pp. 222-226. 

286 KEIDEL [6 

there bave already been listed more than a hundred manu- 
scripts of the late Middle Ages which contain collections 
of Greek fables, and it is likely that at least as many more 
are in existence. Yet the relations of these manuscripts 
to one another and to the early editions are almost entirely 
unknown at present. It is even possible that some of these 
manuscripts may belong to one or another of the categories 
of fable tradition cited above as being prior to the Renais- 
sance period. 5 

Classical Latin Influence 

The main current of Mediaeval Fable Literature appears 
to have come from Classical Latin oral and literary tradition, 
but details are largely wanting. The history of the oral 
tradition escapes us almost entirely, while the literary 
tradition gives us only a few glimpses into its being in 
late Classical times, and then disappears altogether in the 
Dark Ages. After the latter have passed it again emerges 
into view in a greatly altered form, leaving the history of 

5 a. August Hausrath, Untersuchungen mur Ueberlieferung der 
Aesopischen Fabeln, in JCPS., Vol. xxi (1894), pp. 245-312. 
( Describes and discusses more than forty manuscripts ) . 

&. Dr. Carolus Muellner, Apologi Centum Bartholomœi Scalee, 
Equitis Aurati et Secretarli Fiorentini. Wien: Verlag des 
k. k. Staatsgymnasiums im xvii. Bezirke von Wien 
(Hernals), 1896. 8vo, 40 pp. Wien Program. 

e. Dr. Wilhelm Weinberger, Wiener Aesop-Handschriften, in 
Mittheilungen des osterr. Vereines für Bibliothekswesen, Voi. 
il (1898), pp. 63-66. 

d. Aug. Hausrath, Die Aesopstudien des Maximus Planudes, in 

BZ., Voi. x (1901), pp. 91-105. 

e. Michele Marchiano has announced the publication of La Vita 

di Esopo attribuita a Massimo Planude, Ricerca della Fonte. 
See A. De Gubernatis, Dictionnaire International des Écri- 
vains du Monde Latin, Rome-Florence, 1905, p. 948. 


its changes in the intervening period a theme for interesting 
speculation. 6 

Direct literary influence of the Classical Latin texts during 
the Middle Ages seems to have been very slight, the popular 
versions having a practically complete sway down to the 

The Classical Latin influence is therefore essentially a 

6 a. Anton v. Premerstein, Zum Codex Remensis des Phaedrus 
und Querolus, in Mittheilungen des osterr. Vereines für Biblio- 
thekswesen, Vol. i (1897), pp. 1-7 (with 2 facs. ). 

6. Georg Thiele, Phaedrus- Studien, in Her., Vol. xli (1906), pp. 
562-592; and Vol. xliii (1908), pp. 337-372. 

c. Johannes Bolte, Andrea Guarnas B&llum Grammaticale und 

seine Nachahmungen, herausgegeben von — . Berlin: A. 
Hoffman & Comp., 1908. 8vo, xcii and 307 pp. (Monumenta 
Germaniœ Pœdagogica, Bd. xliii). See pp. 16 and 241-246: 
Der Streit der Glieder mit dem Magen. (The author attrib- 
utes this Pseudo-Ovidian poem to a humanist " vor 1500," 
and publishes the text from a Cologne edition of about 

d. Carlo Pascal, Letteratura Latina Medievale: Nuovi Saggi e 

Note Critiche. Catania: Casa Editrice Francesco Battiato, 
1909. 12mo, viii and 199 pp. See pp. 91-102 (Belly and 
Members attributed to Ovid ) . 

e. Georg Thiele, Der Lateinische Aesop des Romulus und die 

Prosa-Fassungen des Phadrus : Kritischer Text mit Kommen- 
tar und einleitenden Untersuchungen. Heidelberg: Carl 
Winter's Universitâtsbuchhandlung, 1910. 8vo, ccxxxviii 
and 360 pp. with 7 facsimiles. 

f. Georg Thiele, Fabeln des Lateinischen Aesop, für Uebungen 

ausgewahlt. Heidelberg: Carl Winter's Universitâtsbuch- 
handlung, 1910. 8vo, x and 72 pp. 

g. Wilhelm Kroll und Franz Skutsch, W. S. Teuffels Geschichte 

der Ròmischen Liter atur, neu bearbeitet von . Sechste 

Auflage. Zweiter Band. Leipzig und Berlin: Druck und 
Verlag von B. G. Teubner, 1910. 8vo, vi and 348 pp. See 
pp. 210-213 (Pluedrus). 
h. R. Bitschofsky, Zu den Fabeln des Romulus, in WSt., Vol. 
xxxii (1910), pp. 261-271. 

288 KEIDEL [8 

single broad stream flowing along with the whole intellectual 
life of the peoples of Western Europe during the period 
under consideration. 

Problems of Development 

Having thus indicated briefly the questions clustering 
about the general problem of origins, there remain to be 
noticed a number of others concerning the development of 
fable literature in Western Europe within the period of the 
modern literatures. The accessible data for such a discussion 
are much more numerous than for the earlier period, but 
their very multiplicity, as well as the intricacy of their 
mutual relations, gives rise to a great number of problems, 
most of which are still unsolved. 

This mass of fable literature may be divided into cate- 
gories as follows: 

a. Manuscripts containing collections of fables in Greek, 
Latin and the various Romance and Teutonic languages, 
which are extant to the number of perhaps fifteen hundred. 7 

7 No extensive list of such manuscripts has as yet been published. 
M. Leopold Hervieux in his well-known work Les Fabulistes Latins, 
Paris, 1884-1891, 7 vols., has described about three hundred and 
fifty of them, and the tables of contents to the various volumes of 
his work give the best brief reference list to them accessible to 
scholars. For a list of French fable manuscripts see: 

a. George C. Keidel, The History of French Fable Manuscripts, 

in PMLA., Vol. xxiv (1909), pp. 207-219. 
For a general list of fable manuscripts see: 

b. George C. Keidel, A Manual of Msopic Fable Literature, Fase. 

2 ( not yet published ) . The bibliography prepared for 
publication contains about one thousand manuscripts in all 

For important recent additions see: 

e. Heinrich Schenkl, Bibliotheca Patrum Latinorum Britannica 
XIII {Index), s. vv. Aesopus latine, Avianus, Fabulse, Vin- 
centius Bellovacensis, Aesopi fabulae [grsece], etc., in Wiener 
Akademie, S.B., Ph.- Hist. Klasse, Vol. clvii (1908), VII. 


1). Manuscripts containing stray fables, whose number 
cannot be even approximately estimated. 8 

c. Fifteenth century editions of fable collections (usually 
combined in one volume with other works) appear to be 
approximately one per cent, of the entire number of incuna- 
bula published. Their number may be estimated as about 
three hundred and fifty editions, each one extant on the 
average in about twenty copies. 9 

8 George C. Keidel, A Manual of Msopic Fable Literature, Fase. 3, 
is intended to contain an extensive bibliography of stray fables 
contained in Mediaeval manuscripts. This fascicule Is at present 
in preparation. 

9 For fable incunabula the following may be consulted : 

a. George C. Keidel, An Early German Edition offfisop's Fables, 

in JHUC, Vol. xv (1895-1896), pp. 42-43. 

b. George C. Keidel, An Early German Edition of ¿Esop's Fables, 

in MLN., Vol. xi (1896), cols. 46-48. 

c. George C. Keidel, A Manual of Msopic Fable Literature, Fase. 

1. Baltimore, The Friedenwald Company, 1896. 8vo, xxiv 
and 76 pp. (with 3 facsimiles). (Romance and Other 
Studies, ii.) The great activity of incunabulum bibliog- 
raphers during the past fifteen years has brought to light 
many editions not listed in this bibliography, a second edition 
of which has been in preparation for some time. 

d. George C. Keidel, Notes on Fable Incunabula containing the 

Planudean Life of Aesop, in BZ., Vol. xi (1902), pp. 461-467 
( describes editions containing fable collections as well ) . 

e. Dr. Sigmund Scholl, Guillaume Tardif und seine franzòsische 

Uebers&tzung der Fabeln des Laurentius Yalta. Kempten: 
Buchdruckerei der Jos. Kosel'schen Buchhandlung, 1903. 8vo, 
22 pp. Kempten Prog. (This collection does not seem to 
be extant in manuscript form ) . 

f. George C. Keidel, The Editio Princeps of the Greek Msop, in 

AJP., Vol. xxiv (1903), pp. 304-317 (with facsimile). 

g. Isak Collijn, Blad ur vàr aldsta svenska Boktryckerihistoria, r 

Dialogus Creaturarum, várt fòrsta daterade Tryck. Sârtryck 
ur JSfordisk Boktryckarekonst, 1905. 4to, 401-414 pp. 
h. George C. Keidel, The Foliation Systems of French Incunabula, 
in ZFSL., Vol. xxix (1906), pp. 150-162 (describes several 
fable incunabula). 


290 KEIDEL [10 

d. Fifteenth century editions containing stray fables, which 
are probably very numerous. The accessible data on this 
subject are extremely scanty, and hence no approximate 
estimate of their number can be given. 10 

In a general way it may be stated that the bibliographical 
problems surrounding these thousands upon thousands of 
manuscripts, editions and copies are for the most part still 
unsolved. The question of their manifold interrelations 
presents even more numerous problems which require solution 
before the entire field can be thoroughly understood by 

i. Carolyn Shipman, Researches Concerning Jean Grolier: His 
Life and His Library. The Grolier Club of the City of New 
York, 1907. 8vo, xlvi and 386 pp. On p. 157 there is 
described as bound for Jean Grolier a copy of Francesco 
del Tuppo, Esopo Historiado, 1493. This volume was un- 
known to Leroux de Lincy, but it is now in the library of 
J. Pierpont Morgan in New York. 

?". (Paul Kristeller), Ulrich Boner, Der Edelstein: Lichtdruck- 
nachbildung der undatierten Ausgabe im Besitze der Kgl. 
Bibliothek zu Berlin, nebst sechs Tafeln nach der Ausgabe 
der Herzogl. Bibliothek zu Wolfenbüttel. In Berlin bei 
Bruno Cassirer, 1908. 4to, iv pp. and 164 plates. (Graph- 
ische Gesellschaft, I. ausserordentliche Verôffentlichung) . 

k. R. A. Peddie, Fifteenth Century Books: An Author Index, 
in LWd., Vols, xi et sqq. See Vol. xi (1908-1909), pp. 83-86, 
etc. This is probably the latest and fullest published ilist of 
fable incunabula, of which Mr. Peddie has kindly sent to the 
author of the present article a copy with numerous manu- 
script additions. Also issued as : Conspectus Incunabulorum, 
Part I. (A-B). London: Libraco Ltd., 60 Wilson Street, 
1910. 8vo, xii and 149 pp. See pp. 9-12 and 145, etc. 

I. Gustav G. Laubscher, Notes on the Spanish Ysopo of 1496, 
in MLN., Vol. xxiv (1909), pp. 70-71. 

m. George C. Keidel, A World Census of Incunabula, in MLN., 
Vol. xxv (1910), pp. 161-165 (contains general statistics 
for incunabula which have a direct bearing on the question 
of fable incunabula ) . 

10 As a specimen reference there may be cited the early editions 
of Johannes Bromiardus, Summa Prœdicantium. 


scholars. 11 It is gratifying, however, to note that some 
progress has been made in recent years in the treatment of 
this last-mentioned group of problems; but it is only in 
the case of the Eomance and Teutonic literatures that an 
appreciable amount has been accomplished. Mediaeval Latin 
Fable Literature, especially in the later centuries, is still 
a comparatively unexplored field of investigation. 12 

Specific Problems 

Having indicated in a summary manner the larger questions 
which confront the modern investigator of Mediaeval Fable 
Literature, we may now consider certain more specific 
problems confined within narrower limits of time and terri- 

11 From 1891 to 1910 several hundred of the problems were 
investigated by various members of the seminary conducted by 
Professor A. Marshall Elliott with the assistance of the author 
of the present article. The following comparative studies of single 
fables have been published, while many more similar studies are 
still in the condition in which they were when presented as reports 
to the seminary in question. 

a. Georg C. Keidel, Die Eselherz- {Hirschherz,- Eberherz-) Fabel, 

in ZVL., N.F., Vol. vu (1894), pp. 264-267. 

b. E. P. Dargan, Cock and Fox: A Critical Study of the History 

and Sources of the Mediœval Fable, in MPhi., Vol. iv (1906- 
1907), pp. 38-65. 

c. H. Carrington Lancaster, The Sources and Mediœval Versions 

of the Peace-Fable, in PMLA., Vol. xxn (1907), pp. 33-55 
( with version tree ) . Cf. summary by J. Bolte in his article 
entitled Neuere Marchenliteratur, in ZVV., Vol. xvni 
(1908), pp. 450-461. See pp. 451-452. 

d. H. D. Austin, The Origin and Greek Versions of the Strange- 

Feathers Fable, see below. 

e. Albert E. Curdy, The Versions of the Fable of the Peacock 

and Juno, see below. 

12 a. Ambrogio Oldrini, L'Ultimo Favolista Medievale: Frate 

Bono Stoppani da Como e le sue Fabulae Mistice Declaratae, 
in SMe., Voi. il (1906), pp. 155-218 (with facsimile). 

292 KEIDEL [12 

tory, and whose existence at present is largely due to the 
scarcity of critical text editions of the various fable col- 
lections concerned, and the consequent lack of a careful 
sifting of such evidence as is attainable by modern scholars. 

While the number of such editions already issued is 
encouraging, the fact remains that they are for the most 
part widely scattered over the entire field. These editions 
have been almost exclusively undertaken because of the 
linguistic or literary interest of the texts edited, and not 
for the purpose of penetrating into the mysteries of literary 
tradition. The result has been that the work done has not 
been coordinated to any marked extent, which would have 
been the case had the object been to trace out the history of 
a given family of fable collections. 13 

The above remarks apply only to fable collections and 
have no reference to the exceedingly numerous isolated fables 
occurring in the midst of various literary works. In this 
field almost everything is still virgin soil for the fable his- 

13 As an illustration of the above statement it may be mentioned 
that of the various French, Italian and German collections of 
fables roughly speaking only about one in four has been critically 
edited, while for the Latin the proportion is perhaps one in twenty. 
The following editions of fable collections have been published by 
members of the Romance Department of the Johns Hopkins 
University : 

a. Murray Peabody Brush, The Isopo Laurenziano, edited with 
Notes and an Introduction treating of the Interrelation of 
Italian Fable Collections. Columbus, Ohio: printed by the 
Lawrence Press Co., 1899. 8vo, viii and 187 pp. with two 
facsimiles. Johns Hopkins Diss. 
6. Enrico Rostagno reviews the preceding dissertation at con- 
siderable length for the manuscript readings in GSLL, Vol. 
xxxvn (1901), pp. 371-378. 

c. Murray P. Brush, Ysopet III of Paris, in PMLA., Vol. xxiv 

(1909), pp. 494-546. Cf. p. ix. 

d. Guy Everett Snavely, Ysopet de Jehan de Yignay, see below. 

e. Murray P. Brush, Esopo Zuccarino, edited by , see below. 

Several other editions of similar texts are in course of preparation. 


torian, for scholars have hitherto mentioned only a few of 
them incidentally and have not attempted a systematic search 
for such texts. Indeed it seems likely that the problems of 
discovery and derivation connected with stray fables are even 
more numerous and intricate than those relating to fable 
collections. 14 

14 The following is a brief and very incomplete list of publications 
which may be consulted on the subject of stray fables in the 
Middle Ages: 

a. George C. KeideL, An Aesopic Fable in Old French Prose, in 

AJP., Vol. xxii (1901), pp. 78-79. 
6. Georg C. Keidel, Zur Altfranzòsischen Fabelliteratur, in 
LBL, Vol. xxiii (1902), cols 33-38. 

c. Charles Philip Wagner, The Sources of El Cavallero Cifar, in 

RH., Voil, x (1903), pp. 5-104. See pp. 74-78, where four 
fables and their parallels are discussed. 

d. Philip Warner Harry, A Comparative Study of the disopie 

Fable in Nicole Bozon, in University Studies of the University 
of Cincinnati, Series II, Voli, i, No. 2. Cincinnati, O: 
The University of Cincinnati Press, 1905. 8vo, 84 pp. (Also 
issued separately as a Johns Hopkins Diss. 8vo, 86 pp.) 

e. Jean Duoamin, Pierre Alphonse, Disciplines de Clergie et 

de Moralités, traduites en Gascon Girondin du XIVe-XVe 
Siècle, publiées pour la première fois d'après un ms. de 
la Bibliothèque Nationale de Madrid, avec fac-similé, carte, 

étude morphologique, etc., par . Toulouse: librairie 

Edouard Privât, 14 Rue des Arts,¡ 1908. 8vo, xxviii and 
304 pp. 

f. Milton Stahl Garver, Sources of the Beast Similes in the 

Italian Lyric of the Thirteenth Century, in RF., Vol. xxi 
(1908), pp. 276-320 f. See especially pp. 320a-320b for 
Italian fables. 

g. Ernesto Monaci, Archivio Paleografico Italiano, Vol. vi ( 1909 ) , 

pp. 30-31 (facsimile of Latin fable). 
h. J. A. Herbert, Catalogue of Romances in the Department of 
Manuscripts in the British Museum. Vol. in. London: 
Printed by Order of the Trustees, 1910. 8vo, xii and 720 
pp. This volume deals with collections of stories containing 
many stray fables. Pp. 507-509 give an account of certain 
Latin fables closely connected with the Esope of Marie de 

294 KEIDEL [14 

In the following paragraphs attention will be called to 
a number of specific problems that offer good opportunities 
for scholarly work. 

The oldest and most important of the Mediaeval fable 
collections goes by the name of the Romulus, and the many 
questions concerning its origin and early history have been 
the subject of investigation in recent years by Dr. Georg 
Thiele of the University of Marburg, whose works on the 
subject have been previously cited. From the parent Romulus 
a very large number of Mediaeval collections have descended, 
and the inter-relations of this group of texts form the 
central problem of Mediaeval Fable Literature. This prob- 
lem was attacked with great enthusiasm by the late M. 
Leopold Hervieux (f Mar. 29, 1900) of Paris, but much 
work on it still remains to be done. 

About the time of the Norman Conquest, England played 
a very important role in the history of Mediaeval Fable 
Literature, but the manner in which this literature was 
introduced into the country, as well as the early course of 
its development there, remains largely a mystery. 15 

In the twelfth century an important current of fable 
literature seems to have flowed from England into Germany 
and become the source of much of the early development 
of this species of literature in the latter country. The 
details of this movement are unknown, but it seems likely 
that an English monk migrating to a German monastery 
in the Ehine valley took with him an English collection of 

France. Pp. 718-720 describe a manuscript citing "fables 
de E so pet et de Auianet." 

i. The Donnei des Amanz, an Anglo-Norman didactic work, con- 
tains the fable of the Man and the Serpent. Cf. L. M. 
Brandin in Ency. Brit., xith Ed., Vol. n, p. 33. 

j. George C. Keidel, A Fabliaux Fable, in MLN., Vol. ix (1894), 
col. 200. 

15 a. Cf. D. S. Blondheim, A Note on the Sources of Marie de 
France, in MLN., Vol. xxin (1908) pp. 201-202 (discusses the 
Romulus Metricus and the fable of the Nightingale and Hawk). 


fables, which he then translated into Latin for the edification 
of his German brethren, who understood only Latin in 
addition to their mother tongue. 

During a great part of the Middle Ages it was customary 
to append to every collection of Romulus fables a short series 
taken from the well-known work of Flavius Avianus in late 
Classical times. It would be interesting to know how and 
when this custom arose, and much of value concerning the 
literary practices of the age might be learned by an investi- 
gation of this question. 

In the later Middle Ages the largest and most important 
group of fable collections was derived from the work of 
Gualterus Anglicus, composed in Latin distichs towards the 
close of the twelfth century; and many involved problems 
still existing in this group have an important bearing not 
only on the fable literature of the time, but also on that 
of succeeding centuries. Hence a thorough investigation 
of its history is still to be desired, especially for the student 
of the vernacular literatures. 16 

In the early Middle Ages Avianus was a favorite textbook 
in the schools, but later he was supplanted quite generally 
by Gualterus Anglicus. The history of this change in popular 
favor would be a subject well worth while to investigate, 
especially in connection with the other textbooks current in 
the same period. Many Mediaeval authors refer to the edu- 
cational use of fables in their day. 

Marie de France translated from English into French 
what became the most popular collection of fables in the 
language prior to La Fontaine. While much work has 

16 For some of the latest work in this field compare the following 
articles : 

a. George C. Keidel, Review of Dr. J. Leite de Vasconcellos, 

O Livro de Esopo: Fabulario Portugués Medieval, in ZRPh., 

Vol. xxxii (1908), pp. 88-95. 
6. H. E. Smith, An Early Italian Edition of JEsop's Fables, in 

MLN., Vol. xxv (1910), pp. 65-67. 

296 KEIDEL [16 

already been done by various scholars on the text and literary 
antecedents of her Esope, the influence which she exerted 
on later Mediaeval French and English literature still remains 
to be traced. It is possible that in Spain her work was also 
well-known, as it has already been amply shown to have 
been in Italy. 17 

Vincentius Bellovacensis in the thirteenth century inserted 
a small collection of fables in his great encyclopaedia, whence 
many later works dealing with the world's history especially 
drew their knowledge of the subject. The questions sur- 
rounding the development of Mediaeval encyclopaedias in 
general are, however, still so largely unsolved that no one 
has as yet ascertained what the influence of this particular 
section was upon the literature of succeeding centuries. 18 

17 a. Compare the dissertations of Murray Peabody Brush and 

Philip Warner Harry already cited. 
6. Walter T. Peirce, Correspondence, in MLN., Vol. xvni (1903), 
pp. 127-128 (note on fable lx of Marie de France). 

c. The latest brief accounts of Marie de France published are 

those by P. J. Marique in The Catholic Encyclopedia, Vol. 
ix (1910), 667; and by an anonymous writer in the Ency. 
Brit., xith Ed., Vol. xvn, pp. 712-713. 

d. John Charles Fox, Marie de France, in EHR., Vol. xxv (1910), 

pp. 303-306 (probably the half-sister of King Henry II). 

e. George C. Keidel, Old French Fables: The Interrupted Work 

of the Late Professor Elliott, Baltimore, 1910. 8vo, 6 pp. 
(Based in part on seminary reports by J. F. Mason and 
G. E. Wisewell.) 

f. Frederick Bliss Luquiens, Three Lays of Marie de France 

retold in English Verse. New York: Henry Holt and Com- 
pany, 1911. 8vo, xxxiv and 63 pp. (cf. Introduction and 
Bibliography ) . 

18 The latest work in this field is represented by the following: 

a. Guy Everett Snavely, The JEsopic Fables in the Mireoir 
Historial of Jehan de Vignay, edited with Introduction, 
Notes and Bibliography. Baltimore: J. H. Furst Company, 
1908. 8vo, 47 pp. (with facsimile). (Introduction only 
published.) Johns Hopkins Diss. 


Mediaeval French catalogues, inventories and accounts con- 
tain many descriptions of French fable manuscripts which 
should be collected and compared with existing manuscripts 
in order to learn more of their early history. A similar 
statement is true for the other vernacular languages, though 
perhaps to a lesser degree. 19 

The history of the iEsopic fable in Provençal literature 
needs to be investigated more carefully (than has hitherto 
been done, and especially the influence which it may have 
exerted upon stray fables in German, Italian and other 
modern literatures. 

The history of Italian fable literature, to which Dr. Murray 
P. Brush of the Johns Hopkins University and Dr. Kenneth 
McKenzie of Yale University have already made important 
contributions, calls for further investigation. Critical 
editions of the many extant Italian texts would be especially 
desirable. 20 

Note. In a fire which occurred in the Library of the Johns 
Hopkins University on September 17, 1908, the original dissertation 
was almost entirely destroyed. The text of the fables is now 
published for the first time below. 

19 a. George C. Keidel, The Msopic Fable in Spain and Portugal 

during the Middle Ages, in JHUC, Vol. xx (1900-1901), 
p. 16. 

b. George C. Keidel, Notes on Msopic Fable Literature in Spain 

and Portugal During the Middle Ages, in ZRPh., Vol. xxv 
(1901), pp. 721-730. 

c. George C. Keidel, The History of French Fable Manuscripts, 

in PMLA., Vol. xxiv (1909), pp. 207-219. 

20 The following are Dr. McKenzie's two latest publications on 
fable literature, in which references to his earlier work may be 
found : 

a. Italian Fables in Verse, in PMLA., Vol xxi (1906), pp. 

6. Note sulle Antiche Favole Italiane, in Miscellanea di Studi 

Critici e Ricerche Erudite in Onore di V. Crescini, Cividale 

del Friuli: Officina Grafica dei Fratelli Stagni, 1910. See 

pp. 59-74. 

298 KEIDEL [18 

The history of the stray iEsopic fables in the various 
literatures of the Iberic peninsula is still unwritten, although 
it would doubtless afford abundant scope for scholarly work. 
In this territory these stray fables greatly antedate in many 
instances the fable collections of a similar origin, an unusual 
situation which should be thoroughly investigated. 21 

21 a. Fonger De Haan, An Outline of the History of the Novela 
Picaresca in Spain. The Hague - New York : Martinus 
Nijhoff, 1903. 8vo, xii and 125 pp. Johns Hopkins Diss., 
1895. See pp. 37-39 and 112. 

o. Milton A. Buchanan, Sebastian Mey's Fabulario, in MLN., Vol. 
xxi (1906), pp. 167-171 and 201-205 (may be consulted 
for parallel versions ) . 

c. G. T. Northup, El Libro de los Gatos: A Text with Intro- 

duction and Notes, in MPhi., Vol. v (1908), pp. 477-554. 
(Also issued separately as a Chicago Diss. 8vo, ii and 78 pp.) 
A few stray fables from the Espejo de los Legos are here 

d. Owing to its unusual bibliographical interest the following 

description of a Spanish unicum is here appended. 

La Ciudad de Dios: Revista Quincenal Religiosa, Científica 
y Literaria dedicada ail Gran Padre San Agustín y publicada 
por los PP. Agustinos del Escorial. Volumen lviii. 
Redacción y Administración: Real Monasterio de San 
Lorenzo del Escorial (Madrid), 1902. 8vo, 712 pp. Pp. 
251-258: P. B. Fernández, Real Biblioteca del Escorial 
{Notas y Comunicaciones). Mayo de 1902. Nuevos 
Incunables Españoles. 

On p. 254 the book in question is thus described: 

45. Esopo — "Esta es lia vida del ysopet con | sus fabulas 
hystoriadas." — Zaragoza, Juan Hurus, 1489. 

Fol. — Dim. de la caja tipográfica, variables. — cxxxii hs. 
num. — Sign.: a^b-ghhh 6 A s B-PK 8 . — let. gót. de dos tamaños, 
con capit. de adorno. — 204 grabados en madera repartidos 
entre el texto. 

Port, con el tit. trascrito. — A la v., figura de Esopo 
rodeado de animales, aves y varios objetos que figuran 
en sus fábulas, y debajo, sobre un campo, dos tenantes 
con escudete en blanco. — Fol. II: [C]Omyença ¡la vida 
del ysopet muy claro 7 acu | tissimo fablador sacada 7 
romàçada clara 7 abiertamëte de latin en legua castellana 


The earliest texts in German offer a considerable number 
of stray fables, whose history is still involved in deep obscurity, 
in spite of the fact that they occur chiefly in the works of 
well-known minnesingers. The most important problem con- 
nected with them is seemingly that of origin, although a 
careful study of the situation might develop other phases of 
the subject worthy of the attention of scholars. 22 

. . . La ql vulgarizado 7 trasladamiëto se ordeno por 7 
a jntuytu 7 contéplacion 7 seruicio del muy illustre 7 
excellëtissimo señor don enrriq jnfante de aragon 7 de 
cecilia . . . " — Es el prologo del traductor, en el que se 
discurre sobre el origen, significación y diferentes clases 
de fábulas. La vida de Esopo comienza en el fol. Ill, 
lin. 11 " En las partes de frigia. . ." Va ilustrada, 
como las fábulas, con multitud de grabados, y termina al 
fol. XXVv, donde empieza el prefacio y prólogo del 1er libro. 
Sigue el texto de los 4 libros, las extravagantes antiguas 
y las de la traslación nueva de Remicio que no se escontraban 
en los 4 libros ditados de Rómulo. Fol. XCVIIv : " Aqui 
comiencan las fabulas de auiano. — Fol. CXI. " Fabulas 
collectas d'alfonso 7 de pogio 7 de otros." — Fol. CXXIX. 
" Aqui se acaba el libro de ysopete ystoriado aplica | das 
las fabulas en fin junto con el principio a moralidad 
prouecho | sa a la corrección 7 avisamiiëto de la vida 
humana, con las fabulas de | remisio. de auiano. doligamo. 
de alfonso 7 pogio. có otras extraua | gantes, eil qual fue 
sacado de latin en romance. 7 enplentado en la | muy 
noble 7 leal cibdad de çaragoça por Johan hurus. alaman 
de | costancia en el año del señor de mili cccclxxxix." — 
Tabla y registro. — Retrato de Alejandro Magno. — ¿ch. en 

Por las palabras copiadas del prólogo se ve que no 
estaba en lo cierto Clemencin {Elogio pag. 459), ni {sic) 
otros muchos autores al suponer traductor de esta obra 
al Infante D. Enrique de Aragón. Se citan otras dos 
ediciones incunables de este libro, la de Tolosa de 1489, y la 
de Burgos de 1496: la presente es de las más raras y desco- 
nocidas. — Méndez, 66, 137 y 378. 
22 a. Reinhold Gottschick, Boner und seine lateinischen Vorlagen. 
Charlottenburg : Buchdruckerei " Gutenberg," Berliner Strasse 
102, 1901. 4to, 39 pp. Charlottenburg Program. 

300 KEIDEL [20 

The early history of Dutch fable literature has never 
been carefully investigated, and much work still remains 
to be done in this field, especially in connection with the 
origin and early development of the Animal Epic. 

English fable literature prior to the time of Caxton is 
involved in wellnigh unfathomable mystery, although it 
evidently must have had a history extending over at least 
four centuries. The superimposed French influence due to 
the Norman Conquest no doubt aided largely in suppressing 
literary treatment of the fable during its sway, and thus 
brought about an almost total blank in English texts be- 
longing to this field. 23 

b. Gustav Ehrismann, Der Renner von Hugo von Trimberg, 

herausgegeben von — . Tubingen: gedruekt fiir den Lit- 
terarischen Verein in Stuttgart, 1908-1909. 3 vols. 8vo, 
iv, 396; iv, 315; iv and 317 pp. {Bibliothek des Litterar- 
ischen Vereins in Stuttgart, 247, 248 and 252.) This work 
contains numerous stray fables. 

e. Gustav Rosenhagen, Kleinere Mittelhochdeutsche Erzahlungen, 
Fabeln und Lehrgedichte. III. Die Heidelberger Handschrift 

cod. Pal. germ. 341, herausgegeben von . Berlin: Weid- 

mannsche Buchhandlung, 1909. 8vo, iv, xllii and 252 pp. 
(with two facsimiles). {Deutsche Texte des Mittelalters, 
Bd. xvii). Cf. also Bd. iv (1904) and Bd. xiv (1908). 

d. Ency. Brit., xith Ed., Vol. iv, p. 203 : Ulrich Boner. 

23 On the subject of English and Scotch fable literature in the 
Middle Ages the following recent publications may be consulted 
with profit: 

a. G. Gregory Smith, The Poems of Robert Henrysoun, edited 
by — , Vol. ii. [Fables] . Edinburgh and London: printed 
for the Society by William Blackwood and Sons, 1906. 
8vo, xxii and 327 pp. (with four facsimiles). (Scottish 
Text Society, 55 ) . 

6. Wm. H. Hulme, A Valuable Middle English Manuscript, in 
MPhi., Vol. iv (1906), pp. 67-73. This manuscript probably 
contains stray English fables hitherto unknown to scholars. 

c. Henry Seidel Canby, The English Fabliau, in PMLA., Vol. xxi 

(1906), pp. 200-214 (discusses relation between fabliau and 


Many collections of Exempla contain a number of iEsopic 
fables among their multitudinous stories, but our ideas 
concerning the origin and spread of these fables are still 
extremely hazy. This statement is corroborated by the fact 
that special studies of individual fables commonly find here 
the most difficult portion of the whole Mediaeval field. Hence 
a host of problems present themselves in this connection. 24 

d. Max Plessow, Geschichte der Fabeldichtung in England bis 
zu John Gay (1726), etc. Berlin: Mayer und Müller, 1906. 
8vo, clii and 392 pp. (Palœstra: Untersuchungen und 
Texte aus der Deutschen und Englischen Philologie, (Mi). 

e London Athenœum, Nov. 3, 1906, pp. 546-547 (describes fac- 
similes of Lydgate's fables published by Caxton), and p. 
550 (describes manuscript recently discovered by William 
H. Hulme). 

f. Philip Harry, Review of Max Plessow, op. cit., in MLN., Vol. 

xxii (1907), pp. 157-158. 

g. Eleanor Prescott Hammond, Chaucer: A Bibliographical 

Manual. New York: The Macmillan Company, 1908. 8vo, 
x and 579 pp. See p. 84, etc., on Chaucer's use of iEsopic 
fables. P. 105 Miss Hammond states that Chaucer cites 
the " Storiai Mirrour." Query : Did Chaucer use Jehan de 
Vignay's Mirouer Historial, and derive his fables thence? 
Cf. Dr. Snavely's article below. 
h. G. H. McKnight, The Middle English Vox and Wolf, in PMLA., 
Vol. xxiii (1908), pp. 497-509. He gives a ilist of stray 
fables in early English literature. 
i. Ency. Brit., xith Ed., Vol. xin, p. 302: Robert Henryson, 
by G. G(regory) S(mith), and Vol. xvn, pp. 156-157: John 
Lydgate, by F(rederick) J(ohn) S(nell). 
24 a. Charles H. Haskins, The University of Paris in the Sermons 
of the Thirteenth Century, in AHR., Vol. X (1904-1905), pp. 
1-27. This article refers to many compilers and manuscripts 
of such collections. 
6. A. G. Little, Liber Eœemplorum ad TJsum Praedicantium 
Saeculo xiii compositus a quodam Fratre Minore Anglico 
de Provincia Hiberniae, secundum codicem Dunelmensem 

editus per . Aberdoniae: typis academicis, 1908. 8vo, 

xxx and 178 pp. (British Society of Franciscan Studies, 
Vol. i). 

302 KEIDEL [22 

A number of stray fables occur in the lives of iEsop 
current in the Middle Ages, and the history of these lives 
is oftentimes at variance with that of the collections of 
fables which they are wont to accompany in the manuscripts 
and early editions. The biographies of iEsop had also an 
independent existence in the period referred to above, and 
this fact has tended to add to the complications of the 
situation. The many problems connected with this special 
field have scarcely been touched upon by modern investigators. 

The popular writers of the period occasionally introduce 
fables into their works, but more often they merely insert 
a brief allusion, with the assumption that the story is 
well-known to their auditors or readers. It would be an 
interesting undertaking to collect a large number of these 
allusions and then endeavor to determine whether their source 
is to be sought in the fable collections current in their 
time, or (what is more likely) in oral tradition existing 
side by side with them. 25 

Mediaeval works of art sometimes portray the scenes of 
well-known fables, but this subject has hitherto been barely 
touched upon by modern scholars, although it is probable 
that a thorough investigation would bring to light many 
interesting facts. It seems that the source in many cases 
of the artist's inspiration was oral rather than literary 
tradition. Some attention has been paid in this connection 
to the Bayeux Tapestry, but fable scenes are also known to 
exist on the Prefecture building at Bourges, the Church of 
S. Pietro at Spoleto, and in various other places. 26 

25 a. G[aston] P[aris], Une Fable à Retrouver, in Ko., Vol. 

xxxi (1902), pp. 100-103. 
6. E. S. Sheldon, The Fable Referred to in Aliscans, in PMLA., 

Vol. xvm (1903), pp. 335-340. 
c. Cf. Dr. Buffum's article above, p. 145. 

26 For notes on the history of the Steinhôwel woodcuts see 
Alfred W. Pollard, Old Picture Books, with other Essays on Bookish 
Subjects. London: Methuen and Co., 36 Essex Street, W. C, 
1902. 8vo, viii and 282 pp. See p. 85. 



From the brief survey just given it would appear that the 
unsolved problems in the history of Mediaeval fable literature 
are of several distinct categories, which may be summarized 
as follows: 

a. The question of the origins of literary species is always 
largely a matter of speculation, and fable literature in the 
Middle Ages is a case very much in point. Many currents 
of popular and literary tradition united in the Dark Ages, 
or shortly afterward, to form the mass of fable material 
which was extant in the later Mediaeval period. 

o. Bibliographical information concerning the whole mass 
of extant material in this field is still in a rather rudimentary 
state, and a great deal of such work yet remains to be done 
on the sources as a foundation for other investigations. 27 

c. The problems of the interrelations of the many texts 
contained in manuscripts and early editions furnish great 
opportunities for a thorough sifting of the mass of available 
material of various kinds. 

d. Stray fables, taken by themselves, offer many kinds of 
problems, which are far more difficult of solution than those 
presented by fable collections; and yet almost nothing has 
been done by scholars towards their solution. 

Thus taking the field of Mediaeval Fable Literature all in 
all there is abundant opportunity for serious work in many 

27 Cf. Catalogue Général des Livres Imprimés de la Bibliothèque 
Nationale: Auteurs. Tome I. Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 
1897. 8vo, iv, lxxxii and 565 pp. (Ministère de l'Instruction 
publique et des Beaux-Arts). P. 302, col. 2: iEsopus — 
Voir Esope. As Vol. xlii was published in 1910 and included 
books down to Du, it is probable that the article Esope 
will appear in 1912, in Vol. xlvi. As this library is the 
largest in the world, the article in question should contain 
an important bibliographical contribution to the subject. 



Herbert D. Austin 

I. Early Forms of the Fable 

Phaedrus' well-known story [i, 3] 2 of the Daw who decked 
himself out in Peacock feathers has no exact analogue in the 
Greek " Aesop." To begin with, the Peacock plays a part in 
only two fables of the Prose- Aesop [Halm/ 397 and 39 7 b ; 
398] ; and in both cases he is the character held up to scorn — 
by the Daw himself in fable 398 ! 4 

But the Daw, in addition to this appearance on the stage, 
is the hero — or, rather, the butt — of seven fables in the 
Prose- Aesop [H. 8, 199, 200, 200 b , 201, 201 b , 202]. It is 
among these that the search must be made; and any hesi- 
tancy in accepting the koXolós as the equivalent of Phaedrus' 
graculus (" gragulus") which might be caused by the con- 
tinual inaccuracies of Latin writers regarding the crow-kind 
is dispelled by the fact that only in this fable does Phaedrus 

1 My thanks are due to Professor Paul Shorey of the University of Chi- 
cago and to Professor C. W. E. Miller of the Johns Hopkins University 
for valuable suggestions as to certain details of this paper. 

2 Hervieux : Les Fabulistes latins, Paris, 1894, Vol. n. 

3 Fabulae Aesopicae collectae. Lipsiae (Teubner). 

* These two fables, moreover, are not of the ancient stock ; they come 
down to us through the Codex Casinensis group of mss. which trace back 
to the Khetoricians of the n-iv centuries, and not through the Accursian 
group from the hypothetical "Liber Vulgaris." v. Hausrath : Unter- 
suchungen zur Ueberlieferung der Aesopischen Fabeln, in Jahrb. f. CI. 
Phil., Supp., Vol. xxi, p. 247 sqq. ; and his article Fabel, in Pauly-Wis- 
sowa, Real-Encyc. 

1] 305 


306 AUSTIN [2 

use graculus — as against three times each for corvus [i 13, 
in 18, App. 23] and for comix [n 6, in 18, App. 26]. And 
we find that not less than three separate types [H. 20 l b ; 
201; 200 and 200 b ] present striking analogies. In fable 
201 b the Daw whitens himself and enters a dove-cot, in the 
hope of sharing in the bountiful sustenance provided for the 
doves. Betrayed by his voice he is driven out; he returns to 
the daws, but they fail to recognize him and refuse to receive 

Fable 201 does not treat of wilful masquerading, yet it is 
more to our purpose in that the vanity of the Daw is the 
motive of his action : 5 a Daw of much more than average 
size despised his fellows and attempted to associate with the 
crows ( Kopa/cec) ; but they expelled him ignominiously. 
And when he tried to go back to his former companions, the 
angered daws would have none of him. 

The third type [H. 200 and 200 b ] combines with the 
motive of vanity the modus of wilful masquerading — this 
time in the feathers of many different birds; but omits all 
reference to a crestfallen return to his own people or their 
opinion as to his actions. H. 200 is by Aphthonius [fab. 
31], and H. 200 b [slight variations in Furia 78 6 ] is from the 
non-Accursian division of the Prose- Aesop. But the ac- 
counts are essentially one; and they bear the closest kinship 
to Babrius' fable 72 : there is a beauty-contest for the birds, 
Zeus is the judge, the Daw adorns himself with the feathers 
of various birds, his trick is discovered, and the birds strip 
him by each pulling out the feather which he recognizes as 
his own. This assembly of various birds, and the use of 
divers feathers, are the leading features also of a group of 
medieval Latin and Romance versions of a non-Phedrine type 
which includes Jacques de Vitry [ccxlix], Odo of Sher- 

5 Max Fuchs : Die Fabel von der Krahe, die sich mit fremden Federn 
schmückt : Berlin diss., 1886 ; pp. 6, 20. 

6 F. de Furia : Fabulae Aesopicae, Lipsiae, 1810. 


rington [vi,] John of Sheppey [vni], the Dialogus Creatu- 
rarum [54], Bromiard [Pt. I, p. 23, col. 2], and versions in 
Italian and French collections. These regularly substitute the 
Eagle in place of Zeus; and without exception the bird is 
some one of the larger kinds : corvus, comix (or cornicula. 
John of Sheppey uses both cornicula and comix to designate 
the same bird) — never a Daw. This unanimous divergence 
from the Greek authority in the very form of the fable 
which is most unmistakably "Greek " in all its main outlines, 
and where all the late as well as the early Greek versions 
agree in naming the bird a Daw, leads me to suspect 
some relationship to Horace's epitome of the Greek fable 
[Epistles i 3, 18-20] where he calls the bird cornicula. Nine 
of the thirteen medieval Latin or Romance versions with 
which I am acquainted use comix (Odo; Dial. Creat. — and 
John of Sheppey; see above), or its diminutive cornicula 
as does Horace (Jacques de Vitry, John of Sheppey), or the 
Romance equivalents of the latter: corneille (Roquefort, 
fabulae ineditae 99) ; comiglia (sonnet attributed to Chiaro 
Davanzati 7 ), cornacchia (ballad attributed to Dante 8 ); 
cornada (Venetian dialect, early xiv century 9 ); chomachia 
(Isopo Riccardiano 10 ). 

The Greek fable of the Daw who whitened himself and 
went among the Doves had an apparently uneventful history. 
The single extant version is so nearly identical in the Accur- 
sian 1X and in the Augustan 12 groups of mss. that it evidently 
came down to us in its present form from the Rhetoricians. 

The fable of the unusually large Daw who tried to asso- 
ciate with the Crows would have a similar literary history, 

7 PMLA., xiii, 205. 

8 Fraticelli : Canzoniere di D. A., I, 274. 

9 Pub. in Bo., xiii, 47. 10 PMLA. f xx., 423. 

n Corai, MvOtov Maonreíwv o-vvaywyrj, Paris, 1810, fable 101. 

12 Sternbach, Fabularum Aesopiarum sylloge, Cracoviae, 1894, cxxi. 

308 AUSTIN [4 

if Photius (ix century) had not quoted it in his lexicon 13 
[s. v. 'Eç Kaphas]. First he explains the phrase by a 
fantastic story about an Aeolian penal colony called KópaK€s. 
This is followed by a second explanation on the authority of 
" Some say " ; then Aristotle is quoted ; Aesop is next adduced, 
and the fable is given, with the interesting addition that 
when the crestfallen Daw returned to his own kind they 
not only beat him but also hurled at him the imprecation 
®evy' ¿s KopaKaç. Lastly Aristides' view as to the origin of 
the phrase is given. It is evident that Photius is comparing 
Aesop's explanation of a current phrase with the explanations 
offered by other writers. Fuchs seems to have misunderstood 
this, for, in his brief mention of Photius — and of Suidas, 
s. v. 'Eç KopaKaç, 14 who is textually the same, in large part — 
in connection with this fable, he says : 15 " Beide berichten 
das hieraus abgeleitete Sprichwort : <E>ei)y' èç /cópa/cac, das 
die Dohlen ihrer zuruckgewiesenen Genossin zuriefen " (my 
italics) . " The crows " as a synonym for woe and destruction 
was surely as old as, and probably was much older than, 
the " Aesopic period " ; and the real explanation of the ex- 
pression — as is more clearly seen in the Latin equivalent 
pasee corvos — is simply this: to be food for crows was to 
remain unburied, the non plus ultra of damnation to the 
ancients. The phrase was certainly not derived from the 
fable, and there is no good reason even for believing that 
it ever had anything to do with, or any part in, the fable. 
Leaving therefore a shadow of suspicion on Photius, we 
shall turn to the third Greek form of the fable — the only 
one in which strange feathers figure. This entirely eclipsed 
the other two in popularity. It is much more picturesque 

13 Photii Patriarchae Lexicon, ree. S. A. Naber, Leidae, 1864, vol. prius, 
p. 215. 

14 Lexicon, éd. G. Bernhardy, Halis, 1853. Tom. I. Part, n, col. 
550 sq. 

15 Op. cit., p. 8. 


and animated and works up more dramatically to a single 
climax. Babrius [fab. 72] 16 is our earliest extended version; 
and for that reason and also because his poetical account 
so well realizes the artistic possibilities of this form of the 
fable, it is worth while to translate it here in its entirety: 
" Iris, gleaming herald of the skies, once announced to 
the winged creatures that a contest of beauty would be held 
in the home of the gods; quickly all gave heed, and all 
desired the divine gifts. From a rock that a goat could 
scarcely scale there trickled a spring, and the pool stood 
summer-like and clear; thither came all the race of birds, 
and washed their faces and their legs, and shook their 
feathers, and combed their locks. And to that spring came 
also the aged Daw — son of his mother [? — Kopwv-qs utos], 
and fitting to his moistened shoulders a feather from this 
bird and from that, put on his single self the variegated 
hues of all; then swooped before the gods, outclassing the 
eagle. Zeus marvelled, and was granting him the victory; 
but the Swallow, like a true Athenian, convicted him 
him by pulling out her feather before the others. He said 
to her : ' Dont tell on me.' But then the Turtle-dove and 
the Thrush dismantled him, and the Jay and the crested Lark 
that plays about the tombs, and the Hawk that lies in wait 
for weaker birds, and all the rest beside. And the Daw was 
recognized." 17 

This form of the fable' — which I shall henceforth refer 
to as the " Many-Bird " form — is absent from the Accursian 
group of Mss. of the Prose-Aesop; and this fact, together 
with its evident fitness for and popularity with the poets and 
rhetoricians, leads me to judge that it was not in the 
original corpus of Aesopica, but belongs entirely to the 

16 Crusius: Babrii Fabulae Aesopeae, Lipsiae, 1897. 

17 The (obvious) moral appended is probably not by Babrius. v. Cru- 
sius : éd. cit., p. 64n. ; also E. Hohmann : De indole atque auctoritate 
epimythiorum babrianorum (Dissertation), Regimonti, 1907, pp. 99 and 

310 AUSTIN [6 

" learned tradition." Fortunately we are not left wholly 
without evidence as to its existence before Babrius' time. 
Phaedrus' Gragulus et Pavo antedates Babrius perhaps a 
century and a half 18 ; but we shall see that the analogies 
between these two versions result from indirect relationship 
rather than direct descent. 19 Horace's reference is much 
more enlightening ; he is giving warning to a plagiarist : 
" lest, if perchance the flock of birds come to claim their 
feathers, the Cornicula become a laughing-stock when stripped 
of his stolen colors." This is clearly the Many-Bird form; 
but the use of cornicula is somewhat 'disconcerting. The 
Latin writers seem to have been very inexact in their 
ideas about the crow-kind. One almost comes to believe that 
it was by mere chance that Phaedrus hit on the real equiva- 
lent for KoXotóc in his version. This much may be said, 
however, of Horace's cornicula: it is a ¿Lirai Àcyó/xeiw in 
Classic Latin and we have reason to believe that it was a 
popular, or Folk-Latin, word — both because it is a diminutive 
of a word (comix) flourishing by its side in the literary 
speech; and also because it is the source of the common 
Romance words which, in French (corneille) and Italian 
(0. It. corniglia) at least, mean both "crow" and "daw" 
in the mouths of the unlettered. Horace therefore may have 
chosen the word, instead of graculus, as having a certain 
familiar and passably insulting tone. Another interesting 
possibility is that Horace was following a " popular " form of 
our fable which contained a Crow instead of a Daw. That 
the medieval Latin-Romance non-Phedrine group to which 
I have referred point to such a source I shall show later. 
Tertullian, about 210 A. D., uses the correct equivalent 

18 The vexed question of Babrius' date I have no thought of arguing, 
but have tentatively accepted 175 A. d. The exact date is not indispensable 
for the purposes of this study. 

19 It seems, by the way, that Babrius was unacquainted with his prede- 
cessor on the Latin side ; for in his Preface he speaks as if he were the 
first to put fables into verse. 


graculus in his Liber adversus Valentinianos, chapter xii : 20 
ridiculing the hodge-podge system of theology and doctrine 
of the Valentinian heretics he calls their conception of a 
sort of composite- Jesus an " Aesop's Daw " (graculum 

But it is on the Greek side that we get the most unequivocal 
evidence as to the pre-Babrian form of our fable. Most 
significant of all, because earliest, is a precious .allusion by 
the Epicurean poet and philosopher Philodemus which prob- 
ably antedates Horace's third Epistle (20 B. C.) by a 
generation. 21 The introductory words of the papyrus frag- 
ment are illegible, but what follows is clear enough: ". . . . 
taking from the arts of poetry and of rhetoric and from 
geometry and astrology and music, he (or it) has bedecked 
himself (or itself) with the feathers of others as did the 
Daw." 22 The Many-Bird form of the fable is unmistakably 
indicated here. 

No other clear references which certainly antedate Babrius 
can be cited; 23 but perhaps contemporary with him are two 
allusions by Lucian : in the Apologia pro mercede conductis, §4 
[i, p. 711 E.] he represents his friend Sabinus as reproaching 
him for acting contrary to the advice given in the De mercede 
conductis, remarking that some people would not regard him 
as the author of that work at all but as simply parading 
in borrowed plumage, as was the Daw ( . . . ròv koXolov 
aXXorptW 7TTepoîç ayaÀÀeo-0ai). The reference in the Pseu- 
dologista, §5 [in, p. 167 R.] is rendered especially interesting 
by the setting, which would seem to indicate that Lucian 
knew a version of the Many-Bird fable in which the cause 

20 Migne, Patrol, s. lat, vol. il, col. 598 sq. 

21 Fuchs, op. cit., p. 10 sq., states that Horace's reference is the earliest 
of any length. 

22 Philodemi volumina rhetorica, ed. Sudhaus, Lipsiae, 1892, 1896, vol. 
ii, p. 101, fr. iv ; cf. p. 68. 

23 On the bare title, KoXoiós, attributed to Diogenes the Cynic, see 
Crusius, ed. cit., p. 164, note to fable 180. 

312 'Austin [8 

of the birds' meeting was some sort of contest in which each 
would try to outdo the others. The passage runs as follows : 
" A certain person, who pretends to be a Sophist, once came 
to Olympia to give an oration which he had composed . . . 
And that oration was like Aesop's Daw, a promiscuous col- 
lection (<rvfjL(f)opr)TÓ<ì) of various feathers from others (è/e 
TTouciXwv àWorpiiùv irrepcov) . . . And there was great 
laughter among the hearers when they recognized the various 

This completes our list of references up to Babrius' time. 
But we should err in an attempt to reconstruct the pre- 
Babrian Many-Bird form on the basis of these' data only; 
for a glance at the appended Table of Motifs shows two 
striking differences between Babrius' version 24 and those of 
his successors, namely: Babrius' is the only version which 
gives Iris as the herald of the contest, and the only one 
which names the Swallow ( %eA.¿8a>i> ) as the bird which first 
discovered the Daw's trick and pulled out her own feather. 
The two versions which follow Babrius in point of time, 
Aphthonius [fable 31 = Halm 200] (cir. 315 A. D.) and 
Libanius [Progymnasmata, 3] 25 (cir. 350 A. D.), both have 
Hermes as the messenger of Zeus to the birds ; while the other 
versions make no mention of a messenger. It might seem 
at first sight that Aphthonius made the change from Babrius, 
and that Libanius simply followed the former. This may be 
true for this single point ; but we find that in numerous other 
details Libanius differs from Aphthonius, besides having in 
his much fuller account many points not found in Aphthonius 
at all. Now most of these variations from Aphthonius have 
analogues in Babrius; and we might conclude that Libanius 
followed Aphthonius as far as the latter went and then 

2i Along with Babrius I class also the Bodleian Paraphrase and Ignatius 
Diaconus, both of which are merely reworkings of Babrius. 

2S Libanii Sophistae Orationes et Declamationes, ed. Reiske, Alten burg, 
1797, Vol. iv, p. 854 sq 


filled out with Babrius. But even this hypothesis will not 
stand the test ; first because Libanius follows Babrius in points 
where the latter is contradictory to Aphthonius ; and secondly, 
and still more significantly, because Libanius has points 
which first appear in his version but are perpetuated in 
succeeding writers, and especially in the Prose-Aesop of the 
Augustan and Casinensis groups of mss. ; and these certainly 
are dependent on the Ehetorical group to which Libanius 
belongs, but just as certainly did not draw on Libanius him- 
self who was a rhetorician and not a fabulist and was not a 
recognized authority in fable literature. The most striking of 
these motifs which thus seem to start with Libanius is the 
statement that the prize which was to be granted for superi- 
ority in the beauty contest was the 1 kingship over the other 
birds. It seems to me that the only reasonable solution 
is : that in some variety of the Many-Bird type — 
which it will be remembered belongs purely to the learned 
tradition — the kingship as prize was a well-known motif; 
that Aphthonius if he knew of it omitted it because it 
seemed to him, as it indeed is, a very unconvincing and 
in fact immoral procedure to choose kings on the basis of 
looks; and that Libanius worked with Aphthonius, Babrius, 
and some lost text or texts of the pre-Babrian version before 

Furthermore, I believe that Babrius' account itself shows 
traces of the kingship idea: all the birds were said to be 
anxious to win the " divine rewards " ( 6ela Scopa ) , though 
it is not stated what those rewards were to be; and when 
the Daw is decked out he rushes in " surpassing the Eagle " 
(alerov Kpeicracùv) and the astonished Zeus is on the spot 
disposed to give him the victory ( vitcrjv ) . Now why this 
reference to the Eagle? If it had been merely a matter of 
beauty, and some ordinary prize was to be won, why should 
it be by surpassing the Eagle — certainly not a beautiful bird 
in the sense that beauty is evidently meant in Babrius' and 

314 AUSTIN [10 

his followers' accounts? The eagle was recognized in 
antiquity as he is now as the king, or at least the leader, 
of the birds. 26 

Keeping this in mind let us consider that other idiosyncrasy 
of the Babrian version : the Swallow, instead of the Owl 
(y^avi;) which occurs in all the non-Babrian versions 27 where 
any particular bird is mentioned as the first to incriminate 
the Daw. As this does not occur in the Prose- Aesop it may 
proceed directly from Aphthonius. But note this fact: if 
Owl was in that pre-Babrian version which Babrius, Aph- 
thonius, Libanius and others seem to have used it would be 
in accordance with a traditional enmity which existed between 
the owls and the crow-kind and of which the most important 
Eastern record is found in the Frame to the Third Book of 
the Panchatantra. Here we find a king-choosing too. 

Whatever weight may be given to the preceding, it is 
reasonably certain that Babrius was using a version which 
either did not mention any messenger from Zeus, or else 
he found Hermes given and substituted Iris for purposes 
of poetic effect. For outside of the fact that Aphthonius 
and Libanius have Hermes in this fable, there is the further 
fact that nowhere else in the whole of the " Aesop ic " fable- 
literature — whether anonymous or in definitely named col- 
lections — does Iris appear either as the messenger of Zeus, 
or otherwise; while Hermes figures in eleven fables 28 of the 
Prose- Aesop ; three times 29 definitely as Zeus' messenger. 

In a similar way Babrius' use of the Swallow, whether 
his own contribution or a substitution for an Owl of his 
original, is just such a proceeding as we should expect from 

26 Cf., esp., Pindar, Nem. Til, 80-2 : . . éVrt 5' aleros òkùs èv iroravoîs, \ 
ôs eXafiev atipa, Tr¡\00e fier a fiatò fxe vos } 5a<poiPÒv tLypav iroalv' \ Kpayérai 5è 
KoXoiol TaireLvà véfiovrat. 

27 Aphthonius, Libanius, Theophylactus, Tzetzes. 

28 H. 136, 137, 138, HO, 141, 118, 205; 308, 315, 150, 152. 

29 H. 136, 137, 138. 


a poet. For when he says that the Swallow " confuted the 
Daw like the Athenian she was " (¿? ^Adrjvai-q rjXe<y^€v) he 
not only is hitting off the Athenian shrewdness and talent for 
litigation, but may also be recalling the story of Philomela 
and Proene who were changed to nightingale and swallow 30 
and on whose Athenian birth and characteristics Babrius 
himself lays emphasis in another of his fables [preserved 
by the Bodleian Paraphrase — No. 148 in Crusius] . And he 
may also have had in mind the passage in the Odyssey 
[% 240] where Athena perched on the rafters above Odysseus' 
head " like a swallow " (^eXiBóvi eífceXrj ) . 31 Now ordinarily 
the Owl was associated with Athena and with Athens; 
Athena's epithet yXav/ccoTris was popularly connected with 
yXavj;, 32 and Athenian coins bore an image of the owl. There- 
fore if there was any especial bird mentioned in Babrius' 
original it was probably the yXav!; ; and if not, then Aph- 
thonius changed Babrius' yeXi&œv to yXavi; with the idea 
of making a necessary correction — just possibly, too, through 
the influence of that Eastern tradition which I have mentioned 
which made the owls and the crow-kind bitter enemies. 33 

Eeasoning, therefore, on the basis of all the versions con- 
sidered above, I feel justified in reconstructing the main 
outlines of the pre-Babrian version in the following manner: 
(the self-evident basal framework is left in ordinary type; 
the reconstructed portions are in italics, with all the features 
which I have discussed above as admitting of reasonable 
doubt enclosed in square brackets). 

Zeus [through Hermes'] announced to all the birds that 

30 Respectively, in the Latin tradition ; inversely in the Greek. 

31 There are many other reminiscences of Homer in Babrius (e. g. the 
collocation of koXoioí and ¡papes in fab. 33, cf. II 583, P 755.) including 
probably our Iris : with Babrius' iropcpvpri nrjpvt cf. P 547 irop(pvpér¡v Ipiv. 

32 Both are really from the root y\avK " gleaming." 

33 Aphthonius' home was Asia Minor, and he may easily have known 
much of Eastern lore. 

316 AUSTIN [12 

a contest of beauty was to be held; the prize was to be the 
kingship. The birds washed in various streams, etc.; the 
Daw (koXolo's) took of the other birds' feathers (akXórpia 
7TT€pd ) which he found there and bedecked himself ( eavrov 
èfcóo-firìce) and betook himself to the contest in variegated 
hues (ttolklXov). But [the Owl first, and then] the [other] 
birds recognized their own feathers, and stripped him of them ; 
and he became a laughing-stock. 

As I have before remarked, the idea of having the king- 
ship as a prize for beauty is unnatural. The same may be 
said of Zeus' holding a beauty-show. But Zeus choosing 
a king of birds would harmonize well enough with Aesopic 
tradition, for example in the fable of the Frogs who ask 
Zeus to choose a king for them [H. 76] ; as would also 
an invitation to the birds to assemble before Zeus: in H. 
154 Zeus bids -all the living creatures to a marriage feast. 
And on the other hand, an assembly of the birds themselves — 
perhaps called by the Eagle — at which there should be 
rivalry in beauties of plumage, seems natural enough too; 
and this is in fact the form in which our fable passed 
down in the non-Phedrine medieval versions in Latin, Italian, 
and French. I am inclined to believe, therefore, that while 
my reconstruction of the pre-Babrian form may hold for 
Babrius' immediate original, it is after all a hybrid, and is 
the result of an earlier crossing of two fables : one 
("learned") of Zeus choosing a king of birds, and one 
(" popular ") of a contest of beauty among the birds. 

The exact relation of Phaedrus' fable to the Greek is 
a baffling problem. On the whole it seems to me difficult 
to improve much on Fuchs' hypothesis 34 that " the basis 
of the version is represented by the Greek fable of the large 
Daw that tries to identify himself with the Crows, is driven 

u Op. cit., p. 20 sq. 


out, and then is repulsed by his own people when he returns. 
The motivation of this version seemed to Phaedrus too re- 
stricted, and perhaps not natural enough; so he introduced 
the ' Strange Feathers J from the Many-Bird version, sub- 
stituting peacock feathers in place of the feathers of various 

The possibility, however, that Phaedrus found this combi- 
nation of the Greek motifs already consummated in his own 
Aesop-book is recommended by the position of the fable in 
his collection. Gragulus et Pavo is the third fable of his 
First Book; and in this book we find that the Latin fabulist, 
as his Preface indicates, sticks closest to the well-known 
Greek Aesop. A comparison shows that Phaedrus' fables 
numbers 1, 2, 4, 6, 7, 8, 11, 12 and 13 follow closely the 
Greek fables as found in our Prose-Aesop, 35 and no. 5 has 
a near analogy ; 36 while as we proceed through the thirty-one 
fables of this First Book analogies in the Greek rapidly 
become scarcer, and indeed are almost entirely wanting for 
the latter half. If so be that Phaedrus was using such a 
contaminatio of the two fables, then his own contribution 
may have been limited to the substitution of the Peacocks 
in place of the Many Birds, in conformity with his usual 
predilection for brief and succinct accounts. For his original 
in such case would have been unusually long. The Many- 
Bird one alone, as we now possess it, is among the longest 
of the Aesopic corpus. By using Peacocks in his fable 
Phaedrus could not only omit enumeration of the various 
birds, but also avoid the necessity of explaining how they 
came to be assembled, and at the same time preserve the effect 
of variegated plumage. 

However this may be, Phaedrus' fable has far outlived all 
the other forms and has contributed not a little to the fame 
of its ambitious and mediocre author. 

35 Respectively : H. 274b, 76(bi, 233, 77b, 47(b), 276b, 259, 128, 204b. 

36 H. 258 ; cf. 260, and 259. 

318 AUSTIN [14 

II. The Many-Bird Type in Later Greek. 

A reference to our fable is found in Oration xxiv of 
Themistius of Paphlagonia 37 (317-cir. 390 A. D.), a con- 
temporary of Libanius. His use of the fable is pointed at 
those whose adornments and acquisitions are external and not 
of the spirit. This turn of the application is new, though 
pat enough, but the few motifs of the short passage tally 
with both Aphthonius and Libanius. A certain verbal co- 
incidence 38 makes it probable that he was following the 

St. Gregorius Nazianzenus, Cappadocian, was only about 
a decade younger than Themistius. In one of his carmina 
theologica 39 this good Church father warns vain women that 
they run the risk of being stripped of their adornment and 
rendered ridiculous as was the Daw of the fable. The few 
characteristics of this reference are not sufficient to place 
it definitely as to derivation. 

At the end of frag. 87 40 the historian Eunapius 41 (fl. cir. 
380 A. D.) treats of magistrates who get into trouble through 
peculation and are both punished and preyed upon by more 
powerful magistrates, who in their turn are liable to the same 
fate. It happened that one of these unfortunate officials 
who got caught between the nether and the upper millstone 
was named 'lepa^, Hawk; and this suggested to our his- 
torian the appropriateness of an allusion to the Hawk and 
Xightingale fable. He says : " This man named Hierax being 

37 Themistii Orationes, ed. Dindorf, Lipsiae, 1832, p. 368. 
3S wepiTÍdr]<riv, Lib. TrepieriBei. 

39 Lib. I, carm. xxix, 11. 55-8— in Migne, Patrol, s. gr., Vol. xxxvu, 
col. 888. 

40 Historici Graeci minores, ed. Dindorf, Lipsiae, 1870, Vol. i, p. 270, 
1. 21 sqq. 

41 I am indebted to Dr. D. S. Blondheim for pointing out to me this 
passage. All the other references are furnished by Crusius, op. cit., p. 63. 


caught by the more powerful one/ 2 as by the Eagle, was 
[like] the Nightingale of Hesiod, helpless in the clutch of 
the stronger." Here the author has twisted the characters 
to his purpose, as he had to make this Heir ax the one to 
succumb and therefore introduces the Eagle. But he does 
not stop as this confusion; he goes on without a break and 
switches over into our Strange-Feathers fable : " And the 
Eagle himself differed from the Nightingale in naught, save 
as it happened to the Daw of the fable, [for he was] stripped 
of his own feathers as well as of those not his own." Which 
must mean that the more powerful magistrate, later on, 
himself underwent the fate of the one whom he had oppressed 
plus confiscation of his own goods and those he had stolen 
from others. The question why the Eagle (who figures in 
-the typical form of neither of these fables) having been 
grafted on the first as hero, led to a comparison with the 
protagonist of the second, suggests the interesting possibility 
that Eunapius had in mind a version of that type of the 
Strange- Feathers fable which has been distinguished as iC pop- 
ular " ; in which the beauty-contest of the birds is presided 
over by the Eagle — by whose orders the Daw is properly 
humbled. If this be the case, then it would be natural 
for the writer, with both fables in his mind, to introduce 
the Eagle as the avenger in the first; and his only original 
contribution would be the felicitous idea of making the 
puissant Eagle himself ultimately succumb to the fate of 
the Hawk whom he had wronged on the one hand, and 
on the other of the Daw who had justly fallen under his 

Our longest prose version is from Epist. xxxiv of the 
historian Theophylactus Simocatta 43 (fl. cir. 610 A. D.). 
Here we have a new introduction : the birds were suffering 
from anarchy and petitioned Zeus to give them a leader; 

42 Literally : " by the one who had paid more " ; i. e. for his office. 

43 Epistolographi Graeci, ed. Hercher, Paris, 1873, p. 773 sq. 

320 AUSTIN [16 

the contest of beauty was then arranged. The general treat- 
ment of the main body of the fable, though inflated in 
diction, follows very consistently the motifs of the Ehetorical 
type as indicated to us by Aphthonius, Libanius and the 
probable pre-Babrian version which I have reconstructed. 
The birds' application to Zeus for a king, and their reason 
for doing so, is at once suggestive of the fable of the Frogs 
who ask for a king [H. 76] ; and when we compare the 
Augustan form of the latter 44 with Theophylactus' intro- 
duction the verbal correspondences are so striking, in spite 
of the latter's prolixity, that there is not a shadow of doubt 
that he had the Frog-fable before him, or at least very fresh 
in his mind. 45 The last clause, too, offers a correspondence 
with the Prose-Aesop version of our Many-Bird fable : Theo- 
phylactus has tcaì yeyovev avdus o koXolos /coXoiós ; H. 200 b 
reads icai 6 /coXoiòs rjv irakiv tcoXoiós. Neither of these 
correspondences can be traced to any definitely-fathered ver- 
sion; and we are thus led to the conclusion that at the 
beginning of the seventh century there was a Prose-Aesop 
collection which even in some details corresponded closely to 
those which we now have. 

The next five centuries and more (eir. 610-cir. 1150) have 
left no datable version of our fable except the tetrastich 
[no. 29] of Ignatius Diaconus 46 (fl. cir. 825 A. D.) ; which 
as before noted is merely a condensation of Babrius. 

From near the end of this half-millennium date our earliest 
Mss. of the Prose-Aesop, beginning with the Par. Gr. n. 

44 Sternbach, ed. cit., XLiv. 

45 Aug. : Bdrpaxoi \vt où p,e vo t èirl r% èavrœv à va p x^ V- ir pé cr ¡3 e is 
eirep.\j/av ir pòs toc Aia oeòfxevoi fiaaikéa avroîs ir a paa x € ? v ' 

Theoph. : ' A4>ìkovt6 irore ir pòs ròv A L a rà Ôpvea /cai ròv 'OXv/jlttlov 
eirpeo , ¡¡}eúovTo rjye/xòva irapa<rx € ? v ctùroîs ' ?)v yàp àvapx^ a T °ùs 
Ôpvidas tò X v ir o v . . . 

46 Babrii Fabulae, ed. Crusius, accedunt . . . Ignaiii Tetrasticha Iambica, 
ed. Mueller, Lipsiae, 1897, p. 275. 


690 suppL, of the "Augustan" type (xn century). 47 The 
variations which our fable shows respectively in this ms v in 
the Codex Casinensis 4S (late xn century?), and in Halm 
200 b (from a ms. probably of a mixed type), will be seen 
from the Table of Motifs to consist entirely in greater or less 
fulness of detail — least in the Augustan, and most, naturally, 
in the mixed type. The verbal correspondences show the 
closest of relationships. The important deviations of the 
Prose- Aesop form of our fable from the Rhetorical type 
are: (1) Zeus' messenger is not mentioned; (2) no particular 
bird is named as the first to discover the Daw's trick; (3) the 
Daw is said to have " pasted " ( 7rpoaeKÓXkr¡ae ) the feathers 
on himself. This last touch is not in Aug., and is evi- 
dently an inheritance from Babrius' /ca0vypœv eVroç ap/jLoaas 
œ/Mûv, via the Bodleian, or other, paraphrase. The other 
variations are wholty, as will be noted, in the nature of 
omissions; and we are thus confirmed in our belief that 
the Many-Bird type of the fable belonged only to the Rhe- 
torical or "learned " division, and was never a part of the 
" popular " collection which culminated in the Recensio 
Accursiana. The only addition at all notable furnished by 
the Prose-Aesop to the Rhetorical form of our fable is the 
catch-phrase at the end which I have already quoted: "and 
the Daw became again a Daw." 

In the middle of the twelfth century John Tzetzes, Byzan- 
tine grammarian, put a version of our fable into his versi- 
fied mythological-historical encyclopedia [Chil. vili, 11. 500- 
522]. 49 He mentions Babrius among others at the end; but 
the Table of Motifs shows that his sources were: (1) a 
version of the Rhetorical type (of the Aphthonius-Libanius 
variety) and (2) a Prose- Aesop version akin to the Codex 
Casinensis. All indications are distinctly away from his 
having used the version of Babrius directly. In a sort of 

47 Sternbach, ed, cit., p. 65. 48 Furia, ed. cit., fab. 78. 

49 Joannis Tzetzae Chiliades, ed. Kiessling, Lipsiae, 1826. 


322 Austin [18 

postscript Tzetzes gives a brief disquisition on the /coXoiós 
which seems to indicate either that his acquaintance with 
the bird was rather literary than actual, or else that to him 
KoXoiós meant not the Daw but some varicolored bird, 
probably the Magpie. 

A short reference to our fable which is found in the minor 
works 50 of Eustathius, Archbishop of Thessalonica (fl. cir. 
1160), does not offer enough features to determine its source. 

Finally, the fable occurs in the Progymnasmata (no. 5) 
of the twelfth century rhetorician Nicephorus Basilaca. 51 In 
his version, as in that of Theophylactus, we have the birds 
acting on their own initiative and desirous of a ruler for the 
sake of security; but there the resemblance ends. The birds 
hold their own election, and the Daw is actually chosen king 
before they discover his trick and pull out their own feathers ; 
and the punishment does not end with his humiliation, as 
in all the other Greek versions, but they fall upon him with 
their claws and tear him to pieces. To determine the pro- 
venience of this version is therefore a rather complicated 
problem; but a sequence of isolated correspondences with the 
version of Libanius, and a realization of the fundamental 
difference in the general nature of the two versions, together 
with a recognition of the fact that Libanius' version was, 
like Nicephorus', contained in a work intended for a " First 
Steps in Rhetoric " and was the only other version thus 
circumstanced — all these considerations have led me to adopt 
an explanation which seems fairly satisfactory. Nicephorus' 
version agrees with the non-Phedrine Latin-Romance type 
of the fable in: (1) having no mythological machinery and 
presenting a council of birds more or less autonomous in its 

50 Opuscula, ed. Tafel, Frankfurt a/M.. 1832, p. 331, 11. 10-13: 
['OfJLCûKri<r(ap, stripped of his garments, after the death of his protector, is 
complaining]. . . MrjiroTe /cai KoXoiip, t$ rod fiúdov, ira.pbp.oia iréirovBa ' 
/cai reus fxèv tûv èTri(paivop.évwv tttíXwv, fwcpop de 8<rov /coi tQp VTTOKpVTT- 
rofxévœv yvfxvòì TrepieXevcrofxai. 

51 Rhetores Graeci, ed. Walz, Stuttgart, etc., 1832, Vol. i, p. 427 sq. 


nature; in (2) mentioning no bathing by the birds; (3) 
no particular bird as the first to discover the Daw's trick. 
That is, it seems to belong distinctly to the " popular " 
tradition of the Many-Bird form, with its comparative lack 
of artistic embellishment and of dramatic movement. Now 
if we postulate that Mcephorus had this " popular " form in 
mind, but introduced some characteristics from the version 
in the only Progymnasmata before his own which contained 
the fable (that is, from Libanius), where points of contact 
existed between the two versions, we can understand the 
situation. These points of contact themselves will present 
the following variation in the two accounts: that whereas 
Zeus is the prime mover and the judge in the conventional 
version of Libanius, it is in the birds themselves that Nice- 
phorus' version vests these functions. Observing this change, 
the verbal coincidences gain in weight. They may be tabu- 
ated viz. : — 

Libanius. Nicephorus. 

"E5o£e [1st word] r£ Ad pa<ri- "Eôo£e [1st word] . . . roîs 

XeGcrai /cai tò òpvlOtav yévos, /cai . . . 'ôpviaiv âpx*o-0a>t; . • • Ka ' Paaikea 
irpòs àyûva kúWovs ÍKá\ei } ùs oéauv ekéadai. 
... à p % -ri v. 

— ó . . . /coXcuòs ... ê ir i T e %- — ó koXoiÒs érexi>ácraTO.,. 
varai. . . 

— d á p, ¡3 o s Sé €vé¡3a\\e /cat avTip — àp , qx avov ets 6 á p ¡3 o s tous 
T<p ôiKacrTrj. dewpévovs Ôpvtdas irapeKÍvrjaev. 

— iyvppovTo Tov koXolov tò — tòv KoXoiòv àweyvpvwo-av. 
eîôos . . . 

Moral. Moral. 

TÒ p.7) TOÎS OLKCÍOIS K O 0~ p € t- TTepiátTTOlS K 6 ff p. O l S . . . 

a da i . . . 

Kecapitulating : The Many-Bird form of the Strange- 
Feathers fable seems to be post-Aesopic in origin and the 
result of a synthesis of a hypothetical Zeus-Daw-and-King- 
ship-of -Birds fable with one, rather " popular " than 

324 Austin [20 

" learned " in vogue, of a Crow and a Beauty-contest, 
which latter shows its traces possibly in Horace and 
Eunapius, probably in Nicephorus, and has as its direct 
descendants a grou¡3 of medieval Latin and Romance 
versions. The fusion of the two was complete and the 
resultant fable already proverbial by the middle of the 
first century B. C. Its written versions then passed in 
distinguishable lines through (1) the Prose-Aesop ancestors 
of the non-Accursian tradition; through (2) the poetical 
embellishments of Babrius, whose version perceptibly influ- 
enced that prose-tradition later, as well as the following: 
and then (3) ran the gauntlet of the Rhetoricians of the 
fourth century A. D. For eight centuries more it persists, 
only to be driven out in the twelfth by the Latin descendants 
of the " popular " great-ancestor on the one hand, and on the 
other by the supposititious line of Phaedrus' Daw-and- 
Peacock fable ; which latter ultimately ousts its single remain- 
ing competitor and rules the domain triumphant to the 
present moment. 


-"Learned^traditioni ?) 

,r Popular"t radi t ion 


Daw and Crows 

•acá- \jír>y*+:yk„*,*Z 




* 4r \ / 

V (Theraistius ) V 

\C R P U S»' 

\ I / 




j VE 

* { O 

Theophylactus R 



Augu stana ,, 

~T — 




Halm E00 ü 

mixed type(?) 





Latin- Romanc< 




Mere references in round brackets. 

* Starred forms hypotheticaL 

Slanting lines show less certain 


Ignatius Diaeonus and Paraphrasis Bod- 

leiana omitted: both known to be from BabrJLus^ 

Non-Greek versions and references underlined. 

¿ ft 

m O 

O "2 - 


sisnamsBQ xapoo 

■em^snStry oístraoay; 


■BOBiTSBg siuoqdaoi^ 


snaooBiQ snpBu9i 



-uí AAA A 



ÜÜ üüüü 

3 3 

«i <5 


s ^^ 


S! M S] 

S3 S] 

S) S] 

B^BDOung stvp'Bijiqdoaqx 


(snuaztrBizB^ snuoSajf)) 


smm?q]i £5 




{[Siq] UBlDtl^l) 






























co HH 






_D-0-0-Q A A ÍÍ 








a Ou Ci. 









T— 1 














l « 

&-i rH 

«2 i 

e ci 

*S Q 

t^ 3 

-u Ai 


to t; '"Cm co 
-3 gNhlW g-3 

S 2. <~> en 'ti 

-O &£_ 2 
m 3 OT3 



A . 
w 3 


k£ N 


cu **- •ri .O 
- - -3 *« -tJ 


e3 CU . 
0>*O C 

r3 CU M 


-£h3 > 







3 3 





£ fcfc 




Eh é-hH H 



1— ( t-H 1— 1 

i — i 

h- 1 

i i 

r - 1 

h- 1 









ft O. Oh 



pq oqpq pq pq pq 

r— i 


i — i 






¡ft ^'S 

&* 3.SÍ 

>. ci 
'Si; <t> 

o o> 

là £ -3 

™ «o 
ai ,, ^ 
3 « ^ 

9)Jh «i 


I ij 


Cj <U 

,3 ~^T 
~~ «SI "2 • +3 ao » ^ ¡a 

43 ^ 3 3 ~ ^p3feO 

5P¿.ÍS , 3.»Ha>o3aí„, 

c o o* (d'h a) D « 

• i-l , , _3 «<H o _B 

a> S .Jj 'S -S •« c «^3 


g S o . o 3J2 


/< gli <£ -3 ^ ri .3 .£ ri 

ft 8 edPnHfìPlMMQ 

S 2 

^ : 

« : 

¿á fe: 

« Ci 


• S Ci 


3 ci 

ci GUO 

— ed 

ri m 

® a 

S «S 

CD -° 

■° ÍS 

V ci 



s % 

^ ft 

S "œ 




o Sfl.S s ' 

2 : ® 

o ; a 


s- — i C3 
0) oj_ 

>^>*c '£ 
a» .3 a> 

- co g 

ci sX 
^ ci O 


•3 3? 

« a ft^c-S 

O) S CD Q fi rrj 



O n j ¡o j, 

■e <u ft3 ft 

Jh ÔO-S'iS-Q 
ci 2-3^ g 



: 3 

o <o 

S. 2 

co l ^» 

•û c 
ci O 
.o ço 
O ei 
u f> 


m M 
"S -3 

e3 3 
3 3 

cr 1 o 

CO »4 

3 G 

O O 
A J2 

a a 



A. E. Curdy 

Of the fables which have come down to us from antiquity, 
none is more interesting in its genealogy, or better adapted 
to special study, than that discussed in the present study. 1 
The versions of the fable of the Peacock and Juno follow, 
in general, the treatment in their prototype, the Phaedras, 
but with variations or additions, some of which reappear in 
numerous redactions, while others are independent. 

At first glance the versions fall into two groups: (a) those 

1 The present examination deals solely with the fable as contained 
in certain versions from Phaedrus to Caxton. The results will 
not, in all cases, agree with the statements of writers who have 
based their judgments regarding relationship upon a study of the 
collections as such, taking as their criteria the order of arrangement 
of the fables in the collections, the title, beginning, and ending, 
together with the general idea of each fable. This does not suffice, 
for it is certain that some writers of fables received their inspi- 
ration from various sources, drawing now from one for a certain 
fable, and, again from a different stock for others. Hence, the 
fables must be studied individually before a true judgment can 
be rendered regarding an entire collection. Few quotations from 
the writings of students are made in the following pages, although 
most of them have been examined, for, as has just been stated, 
their remarks apply generally to the collections rather than to the 
individual themes. In order not to extend too greatly the limits 
of this paper, it is necessary to treat a portion of the study very 
summarily. Collections which are not at present available to the 
writer are not discussed here, and no excursions into the field of 
folk-lore have been made, nor will any versions later than Caxton 
be treated. 

11 329 

330 CURDY [2 

in which there is an enumeration of gifts to the peacock and 
to other creatures, and (b) those in which there is simply 
an allusion to the gifts or powers, or no mention at all 
beyond that of song or beauty. To the former group belong 
Phaedrus, Weissenburgensis, Vulgaris, Nilant, Trevirensis, 
Neckam, Te Winkel, Florentinus, Vienna Codex 303, Ysopet 
II de Paris, Steinhowel, Ysopet de Chartres, and Caxton. 
The second group is represented by the Fabulae Metricae, 
F. Rhythmicaè, Bozon, Harleianus, Marie de France, Ric- 
cardiano, Laurenziano, and Palatino. This division is of no 
significance in the genealogy of the fable, as an examination 
of the summary on the last page of this article will show. 
The earliest version of which we have knowledge is that of 
Phaedrus, c. 25 A. D. (Ph). 2 It is no. 18 of the collection 3 
and reads as follows: 

Pavo ad Junonem de Voce sua. 

Pavo ad Junonem venit, indigne ferens, 

Can tus luscinii quod sibi non tribuerit; 
Ilium esse cunctis avibus admirabilem, 
Se derideri, simul ac vocem miserit 
Tunc consolandi gratia dixit Dea: 
Sed forma vincis, vincis magnitudine; 
Nitor smaragdi collo praefulget tuo 

Pictisque plumis gemmeam caudam explicas. 
Quo mì, inquit, mutam speciem, si vincor sono? 
Fatorum arbitrio partes sunt vobis datae: 
Tibi forma, vires aquilae, luscinio melos, 
Augurium corvo, laeva cornici omina, 
Omnesque propriis sunt contentae dotibus. 

Noli adfectare quod tibi non est datum, 
Delusa ne spes ad querelam recidat. 

2 The abbreviations in parentheses will be used to represent the 

3 The text is in L. Hervieux, Les Fabulistes Latins, 5 vols. 2d éd., 
Paris, 1893-1896; II, 38, and discussion, I, 5 ff. 


This version has no introduction by way of moral, and the 
injunction at the end is of the briefest character. The inci- 
dents are few in number, only enough to develop and illus- 
trate the idea, and are without embellishment. Most of the 
themes reappear in later redactions. Of the personages, the 
peacock appears in all, and Juno is a character in eleven, 
her place being taken in the others by Nature, Destiny, 
Creator, Goddess, Lord. No Christian element enters into 
the Phaedrus narration. 

The version next in date is the Weissenburgensis, c. 925 
(W). There is such a striking resemblance between it and 
Vulgaris, c. 950 (Vg), Florentinus, 1250 (F), and Vienna 
Codex 303, c. 1350 (Vn), as to suggest that they be con- 
sidered together. 4 That they are interrelated is evidenced by 
the large number of similar motifs and the manner of express- 
ing them. Of the total number of motifs in the group, 
fourteen appear in all four versions, thus indicating a com- 
mon source. Only three of the Ph. motifs fail to reappear: 
laeva cornici omina; omnesque propriis sunt contentae; delusa 
ne spes ad querelam recidat; but, on the other hand, the story 
receives several additions : cock tells the hour of the night; 
swallow enjoys the light; gods are givers; crane malees known 
the time; thrush broods in the olive tree; dove mourns; bat 
flies in the evening; nestling chirps. Omitting from con- 
sideration the features in which all four versions agree, we 
find that Vg., F., Vn. have the gods as givers, while W. (and 
Vg., F., Vn. as an addition) has the fates. W., Vg., F. agree 
in the words of the introduction regarding the recipient. In 
the complaint all four have the bird as iratus or indignans, 
and Vn. states, in addition, that the peacock comes to Juno 
' graviter ferens.' Vg., F., Vn. express the peacock's gifts 

4 The text of W. is to be found in Hervieux, n, 188; of Vg., ib., il, 
225, and in H. Oesterley, Romulus, die Paraphrasen des Phaedrus. 
Berlin, 1870; 4. 4. p. 30; of F., in Hervieux, II, 504; of Vn., ib., 
II, 445. 

332 cüedy [4 

as nitor, color, forma, gemmea cauda, cauda ïucens, visus 
superai vocem (F. omnes voces, and W. pulchritudinem su- 
perai vocem), g rus ostendit iempus, in oliva parit tur dus, 
forma superai lusciniam (W. formonsam superai ....), 
grunnire accepit columba (W. grunnit Columbus), nudus sero 
volai vespertilio (W. nidus fugit v.) ; W. has pectusque 
-fidili mis, Vg. pictisque plumis, and Vn. pectore fiamme. The 
agreements noted place these three versions in a group 
separate from W. Meanwhile W., Vg., Vn. show agreement 
in nullus similis Ubi (Vn. nullusque volucrum similis est 
Ubi) ; Vg. do/e¿ ritus; W., Vn., dolores habet thetus; Vn.. 
Vg., cauda et collo refulgent; W. . . lucens; W., Vn. have 
exclusively pipilat nibulus [nidulus?], and Vg., F. have 
exclusively fabula narrât, or probat, luscinia cantaret et hu- 
mana cognosceret; Vg., Vn. have omnibus in suo (h)abundat. 
Finally, the moral, or injunction in W. is vero nolo ut queras 
illud quod Ubi non est datum; F., Vn. nolo queras quod Ubi 
a diis non est datum; Vg. tu vero queras quod Ubi a dits non 
est datum. This evidence, then, places Vg., F., Vn. in a 
special group, and suggests a possible intermediate version 
of which we have no knowledge; or the situation may be due 
to the influence of the earliest of the versions, Vg., on the 
others. Aesopus ad Eufum, 5 now lost, may have contained 
these separate motifs, which were omitted, for some reason, 
by the scribe. 

The agreement between W. and Vn. remains to be ex- 
plained. Hervieux 6 states a well-known fact when he says 
that in the eleventh century there was a fever for correction 
by more or less ignorant scribes, who, in their desire to give 
sense to what was unintelligible or misunderstood, changed 
whole lines. Then he adds that the corrector, in reëstablish- 

5 Collections which are lost or inaccessible are inserted in the 
positions determined by the investigations of the Romance Seminary 
of the Johns Hopkins University. 

6 1, p. 278. 


ing the disfigured text of W., had recourse to a text, which was 
neither that of Ph. nor the Eomulus Primitivus, and which 
Hervieux calls E. de Vienne. Further, he gives 7 four reasons 
why W. is not out of K. Prim.: (1) The copyist would have 
followed the divisions of his model; (2) He would have 
copied it in the same order; (3) He would have used 
the same dedication; (4) He would not have given, as a 
preamble, the dedicatory epistle to Eufus, which could be 
borrowed only from Aes. ad Eufum. In many instances W. 
and Prim, seem to be imitations rather than copies of Euf. 
In W. there occur expressions from Ph. which are not found in 
Prim., and Prim, also preserves some not in W. Each might 
have made changes. The conclusion is that Prim, and W. 
were imitations of Euf., differing slightly from the model, 
yet sufficiently servile to give an idea of what it had been. 
The W. which we possess 8 is not the original W., of 925, but 
a rewriting of the fable according to the 925 W., with what 
additions or omissions we are unable to say. Thus we must 
take W. and Prim, out of Euf., and it is reasonably certain 
that Prim, was the source of Vn., Vg., and F. 

Nilant, c. 1050 (Ni). Of all the early texts Ni. 9 is the 
most compact and condensed. It is given here in full : 

De Pavone invidente Concentui Philomenae. 

Eefert subsequens fabula, quod omnis homo debet libenter 
uti et frui illis donis quae illi Deus concessit. Jam dudum 
Pavo, iratus et indignans, ad Junonem dixisse fertur: Jam, 

7 1, p. 316. 

8 For a discussion of the manuscripts of W., see Hervieux, I, 
livre il, chap. n. 

9 Hervieux, II, p. 540 ; Thiele, Der illustrierte Lateinische Aesop in 
der Hs. des Ademar, Codex Vossianus. hat. Oct. 15. Fol. 195-205. 
Leiden, 19,05. 

334 curdy [6 

Domina mea, vehementer doleo eo quod despectus sim ab 
omnibus., quia Luscinia pulcrius et honorabilius canit me. 
Quapr opter jam ab omnibus derideor. Cui Juno ita respon- 
disse fertur consolandi gratia : Pulcritudo f ormae tuae omnes 
aereas volucres antecellit, colore et nitore smaragdi profusa. 
Nulla enim avis similis tui; pietà enim es plumis similibus 
fulgentibus gemmis; color tuus omnibus fulgoribus terrestri- 
bus praecellit. Et Pavo ad Junonem sic ait: Quid muri 
color proficit, quia superor voce Lusciniae? 

It will be noticed that the introduction differs materially 
from the injunction in Ph., and that it lacks any mention 
of other creatures or their powers or graces, Very few of the 
Ph. motifs have been retained, and these few have been 
altered : despectus sim takes the place of derideri, doleo that 
of miserit, luscinia pulcrius et honorabilius canit me that of 
cantus luscinii, etc.; the simple Ph. forma vincis is elabo- 
rated in Ni. to pulcritudo f ormae tuae omnes aereas volucres 
antecellit, smaragdi is repeated, fulgentibus strengthens the 
beauty of the gems, color tuus omnibus fulgoribus terrestrïbus 
precellit is a sweeping assertion not found in Ph. nor in the 
four versions just discussed. The tale is simple and primi- 
tive in character, and belongs to a period prior to W., and 
nearer to Ph. than to the other versions already discussed. 

Ni. has nine of the motifs in the group previously dis- 
cussed, but the omission of the remainder separates it from 
this group. Its similarity to Ph. draws it further from 
Vg., F., Vn., W., and places it prior to the common source of 
these four versions. The paucity of its statements might 
indicate that its source was an earlier form than Ph., but, 
in view of the lack of documentary evidence, this cannot be 
definitely asserted. 

Hervieux discusses 10 the version known as Aes. ad Eufum 
and the relationship of this version with Ni. and Prim., which 

i, pp. 325, 710, 714. See also Thiele, op. cit. 


is shown not only by the subjects treated, but also by the 
order of arrangement. He argues that Ni. is a paraphrase 
of Prim. 11 But an examination of the fable of the Peacock 
and Juno does not bear out the view of Hervieux. Warnke 12 
concludes that Ni. contains a selection from a version which 
is parallel to Vg., but not identical with it. As W. has an 
addition of twenty-one motifs, and Ni. of seven only, the 
inference is that W. has gone several steps further than Ni. 

Trevirensis, c. 1175 (T). This version l3 does not belong to 
the Ni. group, for: (1) It agrees with Ni. only in two motifs: 
is derided by all (which is also in Vg., and occurs only in 
Me. in the Ni. group), and sad (which, while running 
through the Ni. group, occurs also in four versions of the 
Vg. group, though not in Vg. itself) ; (2) There are eight 
other motifs not in the Ni. group, which occur in several 
versions of the Vg. group: nature; feathers shine; cock tells 
the hours; crane makes known the time; swallow announces 
light, or salutes the morn; dove mourns; bat flies. Yet one 
motif, what are these feathers to me, also in Me., is not in 
any other version, but in all probability this is a casual 
variation. T. agrees with Wk., which is treated later, and 
Vg., in cock tells the hours of the night; swallow salutes the 
morn; bat flies; and with S., Vg. in scorned because of mean 
voice; because you shine, or feathers shine; crane makes 
known tim,e; dove mourns; bat flies in the evening. Thus T. 
must be out of Vg. Later it will be shown, under Par. and 
Ch., that Ch., G., S., Wk., Nk., T. agree in cock tells the 
hours, and that Ch., S., Wk., Nk., T. agree in the question 

11 Miiller (De Phaedri et Aviani fabulis libellus, Lipsiae, 1875, 
p. 16) is of a different opinion. 

12 Die Quellen des Esope der Marie de France. Forschungen ¡sur 
romanischen Philologie; Festgabe fur Hermann Suchier, Halle, 1900; 
p. 162. 

13 " De Pavone." Hervieux, n, p. 619. 

336 curdy [8 

what is worth {quid valet, proficit, prosunt, produit). This, 
then, additionally establishes the indebtedness of T. to Vg. 
AVarnke 14 discusses the relationship of LBG (another name 
for T.) and Alfred of England, and gives the opinions of 
G. Paris, Hervieux, and Mall, all of whom consider the fables 
collectively. Their conclusions do not entirely agree with 
those reached here in so far as the study concerns the fable 
of the Peacock and Juno. 

T. is the first in date to use nature or creator. Ph., W., 
Vg., F., Vn. have fatorum arbitrio; Vg., P., Vn., add a diis. 
Nature is repeated in Nk., Ch., and Par. Wk. has God. 
The occurrence of nature in Nk. and T. may be explained 
by supposing that Nk. saw T. and took this idea from it. 
Ch. also testifies to the influence of Nk. by the fact that it 
is followed by an elegiac distich in Latin taken from Nk. 
An examination of the versions suggests another solu- 
tion. In T. the peacock approaches his creator; creator 
answers: 'do not demand more than the creator has granted 
you ' ; one is admonished to be satisfied with what nature has 
given; nature sends none away empty. In Nk. nature gives 
strength; nature gives each one what she pleases. This asso- 
ciation of creator with his visible representative, nature, per- 
haps arose independently. The writer may have wished to 
vary his locutions, and to avoid the repetition of the word 
creator, which appears in the lines noted. 

Neekam, c. 1215 (Nk.). This version offers slight evi- 
dence upon which to base a judgment, but there is enough 
to show that it is out of Vg., and so to accord with Her- 
vieux's 15 statement that of the forty-two fables of Neckam, 
thirty-seven have Vg. as a basis. Nk. has twenty-one motifs, 
of which six are its own: vincor modulis; praemodicae volu- 

14 Die Fabeln der Marie de France. Halle, 1898; p. L. 

15 "De Philomena et Pavone." Hervieux, i, 676, II, 414; E. du 
Méïil, Poésies inédites du Moyen Age. Paris, 1854; pp. 209-210. 


cris; módulos modicae dulces dédit haec philomenae (this 
appears elsewhere only in Ph. as luscinio melos) ; luciferum 
progne voce notare docet; natura dedit; nulli vult vitae com- 
moda cuneta dare; Ubi variumque colorem. Nk. agrees with 
Vg., F., Vn., Ni. in six motifs: form; color; like a gem (an 
emerald in W., Vg., F., Vn.) ; raven prophesies; cock tells 
hours; I am conquered in voice; with Vg., F., Vn. in one : 
colorem; with Vg., F. in one: quid prosunt. This leads to 
the group Vg., F., Vn. as the source, but, as Vn., F. are too 
late, and as Ni. has shown no influence, Vg. is the only- 
possible source for Nk. We thus have Nk. and S., as will 
be demonstrated later, out of a common parent, Vg. It is 
not possible to treat Nk. and S. together, nor is it possible 
to confirm our decision by a comparison of Nk. and S., for 
they have few motifs in common. Out of the thirty-one in 
S. and the twenty-one in Nk., only five are common; nor 
does a study of their derivatives establish a relationship. 
Consequently, each must stand on its individual proof. The 
indebtedness of Nk. to Vg. is further shown in the discussion 
of Par. and Ch., which proves that Ch., G., Nk., S., Wk., T. 
are from a common stock, which, in the case of Ch., G., Nk., 
must also have been Vg. See the discussion of the motifs 
sad and angry. 

Te Winkel, c. 1275 (Wk.). 16 Under Ch. and Par. we shall 
see that the motifs cock tells the hours of the night and an- 
nounces the morning give a common source for Ch., S., G., 
Nk., Wk., T., namely, Vg. All the motifs, except one, ic 
sterve van rowen, occur in Vg., and all except one, nightingale 
has better voice, or song, are in S. (in Vg., it is vincor sono). 
This would indicate that Wk. is out of Vg., with the addition 
of the motif ic sterve van rowen. Also, the agreement of 

16 Esopei, . . . uitgegeven . . . door J. Te Winkel, no. 29 of Bill, 
van middelnederlandsche Letterkunde, Groningen, 1868; pp. 65-66,, 
Fable lviii. 


338 CURDY [10 

Wk., S. in three motifs: gods; form; eagle has greater 
strength, indicates a common source, and, as it is seen in the 
discussion of S. that S. is out of Vg., one statement supports 
the other. Again, a comparison of Nk. and Wk. shows that 
they agree in two motifs: form; eagle has strength. There- 
fore, we have Nk., S., Wk. out of a common original, Vg. 
Further, under T., it is seen that T., Wk., Vg. are common, 
and that T., S., Vg. are also common. 

Ysopet II de Paris, c. 1350 (Par) " and Ysopet de 
Chartres, e. 1250 (Ch.). 18 At this point our task 'becomes 
difficult and at times hopeless, for the evidence grows slender, 
and there is a lack of agreement where we should expect 
harmony. Eecourse must consequently be had to the results 
of the general investigations of the collections. Par., Ch. 
contain a similar number of motifs, not all, however, agree- 
ing. Par. adds to the general stock peacock hears nightin- 
gale sing (this has been hinted at in other versions) ; 
cock announces the morning (in other versions the same 
idea is expressed as it tells the time or is prophet of the 
hours) ; nature gave virtues and graces; the rich and poor 
are contrasted, and their position on earth and in heaven is 
discussed; each should be content with what Jesus Christ 
gives. New motifs in Ch. are : nightingale has crown; nature 
gave delight in song. An examination of the entire list dis- 
closes the following status : (a) Ch., Par. agree with Nk. in 
nature gives; cock tells the hours; Par., Nk. introduce beauty 
and form; Ch., N"k. agree in raven prophesies; cock tells 

17 The title is " Comment le Paon se courrouce de ce qu'il ne 
chante comme faist le Rossignol." Robert, Fables inédites des XHe, 
XHIe et XlVe siècles, et Fables de La Fontaine. Paris, 1825; i, 
150-152: fable 39. 

18 The title is " Dou Poon et dou Rousignol parce chacun doit 
suffire." Duplessis, Fables en vers du XlIIe siècle. Chartres, 1834, 
pp. 58-59. 


hours (announces, prophet); not all gifts to one; (b) raven 
prophesies is in Oh., G., Nk., Vn., Vg., F. ; cock tells the 
hours is in Ch., G., Nk., Vn., Vg., F., S., Wk., T. ; w/ia¿ profit 
is in Ch., Nk., Vg., F., S., Wk., T.; (c) raven prophesies 
shows a common source for Ch., G., Nk. ; w/taí pro/¿¿ shows 
a common source for Ch., S., Nk., Wk., T.; cocfc ¿eZZs 
hours makes Ch., G., S., N"k., Wk., T. common. These 
motifs are found in Vg. and F., and, as F. is too late for 
Nk., this is further proof for the position of T. and Nk. ; 
(d) Par. is common with Ch., Nk. in two instances : nature; 
cock is prophet of the hours; and, as one motif, nature, is 
not found in Vg., it must have come in through the influence 
of Nk. ; (e) Ch. accords with Nk. in four traits: nature; 
raven prophesies ; cock tells hours of the night; nature gave 
not all to one; two of which are not in Vg., F. : nature; 
nature gave not all to one. Nk. has a concluding elegiac 
distich: Torqueri nos ista bonis prohibent alienis, Et bona 
sufjficiant ut sua cuique monent, which is repeated in Ch. 

Steinhòwel, c. 1475 (S). This version 19 is connected 
with the group W., Vg., F., Vn. There are two versions of 
S., one in Latin and the other in German (G.). S. agrees 
with W., Vg., F., Vn. in fifteen motifs; with Vg., F., Vn. in 
but six: color; cauda gemme; visus superai vocem; forma 
superai lusciniam; grus ostendit tempus; nudus volat sero 
vespertilio. S., Vg., F. are the same in that the givers are 
the gods; then fabula narrât, or probat; luscinia cantus vocis; 
S., W., Vg., F. have a similar introduction; S., Vg. have 
pictisque plumis; S., Vg., Vn. agree in the ending. The S. 
version does not agree alone with any motif in W., conse- 
quently the motifs in the group W., Vg., F., Vn. fall in 
with the group Vg., F., Vn. As we have separated Vg. 

19 H. Oesterley, Steinhôwels Aesop. Tubingen, Bibl. des Litt. Ver- 
eins zu Stuttgart, cxvn, 1873; pp. 175-176. The title of the German 
version is " Die IV fabel von dem pfawen, der gotin und nachtgallen." 

340 CURDY [12 

and F., and, as there is no evidence in the motifs here 
considered to disprove the correctness of this procedure, 
it leaves S. in agreement with Vg., F. in a large number 
of instances. But S. agrees with Vg. in one additional 
motif: Nullus similis Ubi; hence it is out of Vg. S. adds 
no motifs to Vg.,, but it changes one : the crane is made to 
brood in the olive tree instead of the thrush, as in other 
versions. Jacobs says 20 that Heinrich Steinhowel brought 
together in his Aesop the four books of the Romulus, prose 
versions of Phaedrus, and selections from other collections, 
and seventeen from a collection, the source of which has 
never been determined, the Fabulae Extravagantes, contained 
in the Breslau manuscript of Petrus Alphonsus. It would 
seem that our fable belongs to the class just mentioned, and 
which is shown to be Vg. Steinhowel's German version is 
considered incidentally under Par. and Ch. It is essentially 
the same as the Latin version. 

Fabulae Metricae, c. 1125 (Me) and F. Rhythmicae, c. 
1250 (Rh). These two versions 21 offer no difficulty, as their 
agreements with Ni. are apparent. The only question is in 
regard to the motif sad, which they have in common with 
T., and which has been explained in the treatment of T. 

Marie de France, c. 1175 (Mar). The fable in Marie 
gives us only a slight clue by which we may hope to determine 
the store from which she drew. The motifs belonging to 
Mar. are to be found scattered among the earlier versions. 
Ni. contains the largest number, and these in Mar. agree 
more nearly in wording with Ni. than they do with those 
in other versions. Marie's fable is as follows : 22 

20 The Fables of Aesop as first printed by William Caxton . . . 
London, 1889; I, p. 185. 

21 Hervieux, n, pp. 702-703; n, p. 745. 
22 Warnke, Fabeln, pp. 108-109. 


Uns poüns fu forment iriez 
vers sei meïsme e curuciez 
de ceo que tel voiz nen aveit 
cum a lui, ceo dist, avendreit. 
A la deuesse le mustra, 
e la dame li demanda 
s'il n'ot asez en la bealté 
dunt el l'aveit si aiirné; 
de pennes l'aveit fet plus bel 
que ne veeit nul altre oisel. 
Li poüns dist qu'il se cremeit, 
de tuz oisels plus vils esteit 
pur ceo que ne sot bien chanter. 
Eie respunt: "Lai mei ester! 
Bien te deit ta bealtez suffire." 
" Nenil," fet il, " bien le puis dire : 
quant li russignolez petiz 
a meillur voiz, jeo sui huniz." 

Marie adds to other motifs deuesse, dame, goddess as giver; 
question whether beauty is not sufficient; fear; uglier than 
other birds; let me be. Exclusive of these features, Mar., 
in the briefness and directness of her narration, stands 
nearer to Ni. than to any other version or group of versions. 
The expressions I cannot sing; had not such a voice, and 
the traits given above are not present in Ni., nor are they 
in the Vg. group. In Ni. form is superior to nightingale 
takes the place of beauty of feathers, and doleo that of 
cremeit. On the other hand I cannot sing appears in the 
representatives of the Vg. group, and is absent from Ni., 
but nightingale has better voice appears only in T. of the Vg. 
group. This would indicate either that the English version 
which Marie translated, that of Alfred of England, 23 was 
slightly influenced by some version of the Vg. group, or 
that Marie herself saw or heard a version of the fable which 

23 Marie states in her epilogue that she translated the fables 
from the English. For a discussion of this and of Mall's assertion 
that the source of the first forty fables (the present one included) 
is Ni., see Warnke, Festgabe fiir Suchier, Halle, 1900; p. 162; and 
ZRPh., ix, pp. 161, 165, 188 ff. 

342 curdy [14 

belonged to the Vg. group, and thus introduced these elements. 
Ph. and Vg. are the only versions which contain all of these 
additional motifs. T. has two: timeo and desiste, both of 
which express ideas contained in Mar. and not found in any 
other redactions of the Vg. or Ni. groups. T. is of the 
same period as Mar., and, unless these are accidental simi- 
larities, it is possible that this may be taken as evidence 
that the T. ideas were conveyed to Marie, and that they 
probably were not in Alfred. It is thus certain, that the 
fable of Mar. should be placed under Ni., with the influence 
of a side version. Besides the similarity of motifs in Mar. 
and Ni., the character of the narration in both versions is 
much alike, both being short, terse in statement, beginning 
and ending abruptly. It is to be noticed that the intro- 
duction in Ni. is lacking in Mar. 

Riccardiano, c. 1325 (Ri) u ; Isopo Laurenziano i, c. 1375 
(L) ; 25 Palatino I, c. 1425 (Pal.). 26 These three versions 
agree among themselves in nearly all their motifs. Ri. has 
more song to the nightingale, which is not in the others. The 
remaining motifs are scattered among the other versions; 
the only one occurring extensively is the motif sad. The 
three Italian fables have a common source, but the paucity 
of evidence as to their agreement with previous versions allows 
us slight opportunity to reach a definite decision regarding 
their position in our scheme. Warnke discusses 27 these col- 
lections and their relations to Mar. and T., and concludes 
that they are direct literal translations of Mar. 28 This state- 

24 L. Rigoli, Volgarizzamento delle Favole di Esopo. Testo Ric- 
cardiano, Firenze, 1818, pp. 85-86; fable 40. 

25 " Del Paone che ssi ramarica alla Natura della Bocie e de 
Piedi rustichi, domandando volere essere anzi uno Lusigniuolo. M. P. 
Brush, Isopo Laurenziano. Columbus, 1899; pp. 167-168; cap. XLI. 

26 " Il Pagone si mirava le penne e poi i piedi." Favole di Esopo 
in Vulgare. Lucca, 1864; pp. 91-92; xxxxi. 

21 Fabeln, p. lxxv ff. 

28 Brush, Isopo Laurenziano. Columbus, 1899; pp. 43 ff., takes the 
L. collection from a particular manuscript of Mar. 


ment does not apply to the fable which we are considering. 
The versions may have been, and probably were, inspired by 
Marie's tale, but a synopsis of Ei., the oldest of the three, 
will refute Warnke's statement as concerns our fable. 

The title of Ei. is "Del paone che si guatava le penne." 
A peacock is admiring his feathers, is delighted at his 
beauty, hears a nightingale sing, is grieved because he thought 
himself the handsomest bird in the world, but now his 
beauty is nothing because he cannot sing. He goes to Nature 
in an angry mood, complains that more has been given to 
the nightingale than to himself. Nature replies that she 
had given him the most beautiful feathers in the world. 
The peacock responds : " What good is that to me if I 
cannot sing, and if my feet disturb me so, that every time 
I look, I am ashamed ? " 29 Nature orders him away with 
the remark that his beauty is sufficient, and that she does not 
wish him to be other than he is. Then follows the moral, 
that every one is discontented with what he has, and can not 
bear to see another have more. 

Bozon, c. 1325 (Bo); 30 Harleianus, c. 1375 (H) 31 ; and 
the motifs sad and angry. Two motifs which are important in 
the genealogy of these versions are sad and angry. Sad is 
represented by the expressions triste in Me., doleo in Ni., 
doleos in Ph., mœstas in Nk., T., duel demenoit in Par., 
lamantanente in L., sorrowful and heavy in Cax. Angry 
is represented by indigno ferens in Ph., S., indignans in Me., 
Vg., Ni., F., iratus in Me., Vg., F., W., Vn., S., turhatus 

29 The remark about the ugly feet occurs only in the three Italian 
versions. It is borrowed from the bestiaries; see Goldstaub und 
Wendriner, Ein Tosco-Venezianischer Bestiarius. Halle, 1892, p. 342. 

30 " Contra próximos contempnentes." L. T. Smith — P. Meyer, 
Contes moralises de Nicole Bozon. Paris, SATF., 1889, p. 24, §18; 
See P. W. Harry, A Comparative Study of the Aesopic Fable in 
Nicole Bozon. Cincinnati, 1905; pp. 23-25. 

31 " Pavo et Predestinado." Nicolai Bozon Eœempla Quœdam. 
Hervieux, rv, p. 258. 

344 curdy [16 

in Eh., graviter ferens in Vn v gravdbatur in H., iriez 
in Marie. Ch., B., G., Wk. have complaint, and Wk. has 
ic sterve van rowen. These stand nearer to sad than to angry. 
It will be noticed that some of the versions have more than 
one of the expressions. The following scheme shows the 
occurrence of the motifs in the Prim, and Ni. groups: 

Sad-*- Pirim. group: T., Par., Nk., G., St., Ch., Bo., Cax.; 
Ni. group : Me., Ni., Eh., L. 

Angry— Prim, group : Ph., S., Vg., F., W., Vn., H., Wk. ; 
Ni. group : Me., Ni., Eh., Mar., Ei., Pal. 

Sad, which was not in Ph. (nor W.), started later, prob- 
ably in Euf., thence going into Ni. and Me.; also going 
1 into Prim., from which version it went into X. and derivatives. 
As sad is not in our Vg., which is here called Vg. I, and 
it is in Bo., Nk., Par., T., Ch., Cax., a new common source 
may be posited and called Vg. II. This means that from 
version X, out of Prim., were copied two versions, Vg. I, 
which we possess, and Vg. II, of which we have no mention, 
possibly lost. This Vg. II must have contained all the motifs 
common to Vg. I and those versions which we have proved 
to be out of Vg. I, and, in addition, it must have contained 
motif sad, which is common to Bo., Nk., T., Par., and Cax. 
T. cannot be an immediate source for Bo., Nk., Wk., S., as 
T. has not gods; to whom it is given; let it he used; form; 
color; beauty; like a gem; like an emerald, which are com- 
mon to several of the versions; nor are Nk., Wk. singly out 
of T., as T. has not the Nk. motifs: beauty, which is in S., 
Wk. ; color, which is in S. ; like a gem (like an emerald in 
S., Cax.); nor the Wk. motifs: nightingale sings; (also in 
Cax., S.) ; beauty, which is in G., S; (in Nk., S. it is form). 
Bo. may be out of T., because they have in common ' sad; 
peacock cannot sing; more song to nightingale, which are not 
in Vg., Vn., F., W., nor in Ni. Thus Bozon may be out of 
a version or a rehandling of T., and H. is parallel to Bo., 
except that it omits neck shines and has painted feathers, and 


adds beauty of feathers. Hence, Bo., and, after it, H., are 
out of T. 32 

Machault, c. 1484, and Caxton, 1484 (Cax). The Machault 

collection 33 is not, for the moment, accessible to the writer, 
and so it is necessary to accept Jacobs' statement, 34 that Cax- 
ton translated his version 35 from Jules Machault, who trans- 
lated it from S'teinhowel. The agreement of Caxton and 
Steinhowel indicates that the French original of Caxton 
mentioned in the title of Caxton's work is also directly con- 
nected with S. ; hence, the absence of the French link is of 
no great moment. 36 Caxton, however, omits several motifs 
which are found in S. : prophecy by the nightingale ; gemmed 
tail; blackbird, swallow, bat, cock. These may be absent 
also from the French redaction. 37 

The comparison of motifs given above and the summary 
which follows serve to show the relationship and interdepen- 
dence of the collections cited. It will be seen that they can be 
divided into groups, and subdivided into still smaller groups. 
Yet hundreds of years after the primitive division, we find 
a version in one group showing direct influence on one 
belonging to an entirely different group. It is such cross- 

32 Harry, op. cit., pp. 23 ff., proposes the possible influence of Mar., 
or of some oral tradition resembling that version. 

33 Les subtilles fables de esope avec celles de auian de alfonce et de 
poge florentin . . . lequel a este translate de latin en frâcois par 
. . . frère iulien des augustins de lyon. Lyon, Mathis Huez, 1484. 
Hervieux, iv, pp. 403-406, attributes the first edition to a date an- 
terior to 1480. 

34 Op. cit., i, p. 4. 

35 " The fourth fable is of Juno the goddesse and of the pecock and 
of the nyghtyngale." The Fables of Aesop as first printed by 
William Caxton in 1484 . . . now again edited and induced by 
Joseph Jacobs. London, 1889; n, p. 105; Liber quartus, Fable 4. 

36 The writer intends to republish the Machault collection in the 
near future. 

3T This ends the list of collections which, so far as the writer has 
been able to determine, contain the fable in question, nor are 
parallels to it found in the many other collections he has examined. 
No effort has been made to include stray occurrences of the fable. 

346 CURDY [18 

relations as these that make it imperative for the student of 
medieval fable collections to examine the relations and motifs 
of the individual fables. 

In conclusion, the relations of the variant versions of 
this fable may be summarized historically as follows : Phae- 
drus (c. 25) is followed by Romulus Primitivus (c. 900), 
through *Aesopus ad Eufum (c. 850, lost). Weissenburgen- 
sis (c. 925) branches from Primitivus, and is continued 
by the copy of 1050. After Weissenburgensis, and out of 
Primitivus, we have a group containing *Vindobonensis (c. 
1050, lost) and a later copy, Vienna Codex 303 (c. 1350) 
as one branch; and a group having Vulgaris (c. 950) and 
a posited * Vulgaris II, which is the predecessor of Trevirensis, 
Neckam, Florentinas, Te Winkel, and Steinhòwel. Treviren- 
sis (c. 1175) gave Bozon (c. 1325) and Harleianus (c. 1375). 
Neckam (c. 1215), influenced by Trevirensis, give rise to 
Ysopet de Chartres (c. 1250) and Ysopet II de Paris (c. 
1350). Steinhòwel (Latin and German, both c. 1475) is the 
parent of a large number of European versions, two of which, 
Machault (c. 1484) and Caxton (1484), are in the period 
which is treated here. From a version occurring between 
Rufus and Primitivus, another group was formed, having 
Mlant (c. 1050) as its earliest representative, which, in turn, 
furnished the material for a line of versions consisting of an 
* Anglo-Norman version (c. 1100, lost), * Alfred of England 
(c. 1150, lost), and Marie de France (c. 1175). Marie, 
who shows in this fable the influence of Trevirensis, was the 
inspiration for the Italian version, *Isopo Italiano (c. 1300, 
lost), and the latter was the precursor of Riecardiano (c. 
1325) on the one hand, and, on the other, of *Isopo Lauren- 
ziano (c. 1350, lost), which served as the model for Lauren- 
ziano I (c. 1375) and Palatino I (c. 1425). Florentinus 
(c. 1250) and Te Winkel (c. 1275) have no successors in the 
period included in this study, as far as is known to the writer. 
Fabulae Metricae (c. 1125) and Fabulae Rythmicae (c. 1250) 
appear to have been derived from a version preceding Nilant, 
and they have left no successors. 



Guy E. Snavely 

The collection of JEsopic fables here published for the 
first time is found in the Mireoir Historial of Jehan de 
Vignay, who flourished in the early part of the fourteenth 
century and who was a very popular literary man at the 
court of the first Valois kings. He translated into French 
some twelve historical and religious works, of which the 
most famous are the Légende Dorée of Jacques de Varazze, 
the Livre des Eschez of Jacques de Cessâtes, and the Mireoir 
Historial of Vincent de Beauvais. 

The last-mentioned work is a long treatise in four folio 
manuscript volumes giving a general survey of the history 
of the world. Vincent de Beauvais in treating of early Greek 
history interpolates this collection of fables after a brief 
reference to iEsop. 

There are known to be extant some forty-one manuscripts 
containing portions of this work, and the collection of fables 
is found in nine of them. 1 The text 1 here given is taken 
from MS. fr. 316 of the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris, 
which is by far the oldest and best manuscript. In fact it 
is probably the copy made in 1333 for Queen Jeanne de 
Bourgogne herself. In the footnotes, however, there are 
given all the variants showing differences of meaning found in 

1 For a more detailed account of Jehan de Vignay and his works 
see Guy E. Snavely, The JEsopic Fables in the Mireoir Eistoriai 
of Jehan de Vignay. Baltimore, 1908 (Johns Hopkins Dissertation). 

1] 347 

348 SNAVELY [2 

the other eight manuscripts. The abbreviations employed 
refer to the following manuscripts: 

A = MS. 434, Bibl. Municipale, Besançon. (1372) 

B = Ms. Vossianus gallieus, folio 3 A, Universiteits- 

Bibliotheek, Leiden (ca. 1345) 

C = MS. Royal 14 E. i, British Museum, London 

(ca. 1500) 
D = MS. fr. 50, Bibl. Nationale, Paris (ca. 1460) 

E = MS. fr. 308, Bibl. Nationale, Paris (1455) 

F — Ms. fr. 312, Bibl. Nationale, Paris (1396) 

H = MS. fr. 6354, Bibl. Nationale, Paris (ca. 1450) 
I = ms. Eeg. 538, Bibl. Vaticana, Roma (ca. 1455) 

Mireoir Historial. 
(Li v. iv, ch. 2-8). 

De Esope et de ses fables faintes moralement con- 
tre les malicieus envieux : Il 


En l'an du règne Cyre premier, Esope est occis de 
Delphins. L'aucteur. Les fables de Esope sont nobles et 
renommées les queles Romulus un Grec estrait de grec en 
latin et les envola a son filz Tyberim, escrivant ainsi: 
5 " De la cité de Atice, Esope, un homme grec et engigneus, 
enseigne ses sergens quel chose les hommes doivent garder. 
Et a fin que il devise et demonstre la vie des hommes 
et les meurs, il amaine a ce arbres, oysiaus et bestes, 
parlans a prouver chascune fable. Et ceste chose ie, 
10 Romulus, tresportai de grec en latin. Et certes, filz 
Tyberin, se tu les lises et les aperçoives a plain courage 
tu trouveras jeux dedenz mis qui te feront rire et te 


aviveront ton enging." Veez ci l'essample contre les 

(Heading) DH des for de ses; DF saínetes for faintes; CDEI 
omit contre les malicieus envieux; H malicieus et; A adds estraites 
de grec en latin; C le Ile chapitre; F omits IL — (Prologue) 1. 
H ou premier an for en . . . premier; BCEH fut for est; BF des; 
C omits de. — 2. C omits nobles et. — 3. DH escripst for estrait. 

— 5. CDEHI omit de Atice; I un homme Esope; A omits grec; 
DH greigneur for engigneus. — 6. D ensigne de; H a l'instruction 
de for enseigne; B les for ses; H serviteurs for sergens; DI quelles 
choses. — 7. CDEHI des for les. — 8. C. omits et bestes parlans. 

— 9. B fiabe for fable; I omits ceste chose. — 10. F le translatay, 
H ay translaté for tresportai; H mon filz. — IL CE et tu; I 
omits second les; H de for a. — 12. H mis dedens; H omits te. 

— 13. ACDEI esmouveront, H aguiseront; A omits veez . ... 
essample; I et veez; BCE ve; DEH omit ci; H omits F; F encontre. 

[I. Wolf and Lamb] 

Il faint que l'aignel et le loup, qui avoient soif, vin- 
drent a un ruissel de diverses parties, l'un de amont, 
l'autre de aval. Le lou bevoit en haut et l'aingnel bien 
loing au bas. Et quant le lou vit l'aignel il dist ainsi: 
5 " Tu as troublé l'yaue a moy bevant." Et l'aignel 
souffrant dist : " Comment t'ay je l'yaue troublée qui 
acourt de toy a moy ? " Et le loup dist : " Tu me dis 
mal." Et dist l'aignel : " Je ne te di nul mal." Et dist 
le lou : " Ton pere vraiement me dist et monstra moût 
10 de maux." Et la fin de leur estrif le lou dist a 
voiz despiteuse : " Et encore parles tu a moy, larron ? " 
Et tantost il s'embati contre li et tua l'aignel innocent. 

1. A adds example de l'aignel et du lou; I omits qui avoient 
soif. — 2. I vindrent boire. — 3. B et l'autre; DH et le lou; 
I d'en; CH amont for en haut; B le lou for l'aingnel; F repeats 
bevoit after l'aingnel. — 4. CDEHI en for au; H lui escria for 
dist ainsi. — 5. H pourquoi me troubles tu mon eaue for tu . . . 
bevant. — 6. I ce souffrant; H pacient for souffrant, H lui respondí 

350 SNAVELY [4 

for dist; I et comment; CEI omit t'; H la troubleroie for t'ay 
. . . troublée. — 7. H je puis quelle iront for qui acourt; B 
court. — 8. H injure for mal; H lui dist; H chose qui te doye 
desplaire for second mal; HI lors for second et; H lui dist. — 9. 
CEI et me; H fist en sa vie for dist et monstra. — 10. I mais 
for et; CDEHI en la. — 11. H comment oses parler for et encore 
parles; H que tu es larron. — 12. C omits il; F se combatí a 
for s'embati contre; D il se embati contre l'aignel et le tua; H il se 
print au corps de l'aignel le saisi tua et menga for il . . . innocent. 

[II. Mouse, Frog and Kite] 

Contre ceulz, certes, qui appareillent aguez au profit 
et au salu des autres destruiré, il faint que la souriz, 
qui vouloit passer un fleuve, requist l'aide de la raine 
et la raine prist un gros fil et lia a la souriz et a 
5 son pié et commença a noer. Et el milieu du fleuve 
la raine se plunga. Et si comme Fautre se tenist forci- 
blement sus Pyaue, une escoufle voloit sus Pyaue et prist 
la souriz a ses ongles et emporta la raine pendante 

1. A adds exemple de la rayne et de la souriz; A omits aguez; H a 
leur for au. — 2. H omits au; H pour les for des; E fault for faint. 
— 3. F d'une for de la; H renoulle for raine. — '4. I mais for et; 
C omits et la raine ; BCDEHI le lia ; H omits a la ; H omits souriz et 
and adds after pié: par ung bout et a l'autre a la gusue de la souris. 
— 5. I omits et commença a noer; F puis commença; ACDEF ou 
for el; I omits et . . . plunga. — 6. I mais for et; H ainsi for si; 
FH la souris for l'autre; H tenoit for tenist; D fortement, H le 
plus for quelle pouoit for forciblement; E un. — 7. H omits second 
sus l'yaue; HI qui for et. — 8. F emporta la souris et; H qui pendoit 
a elle for pendante ensemble. — 9. A adds et ainsi fu prise et 
dévorée qui cuidoit la souriz noier. 

[III. Dog and Shadow] 

Avec ce il faint contre les convoiteus que un chien 
passant un fleuve tenoit une piece de char en sa bouche, 


et si comme il en vit l'ombre en l'yaue il cuida que ce 
fust une autre piece et ouvri la bouche pour la prendre, 
5 et tantost le fleuve emporta cele que il tenoit, et ne pot 
avoir cele que il cuidoit estre souz Pyaue. Et ainssi 
aucuns qui veult avoir l'autrui pert aucune foiz le sien. 

1. A adds exemple du chien contre les convoiteus; A omits ce 
and contre les convoiteus. — 2. H qui passoit for passant; FH 
gueule for bouche. — 4. I piece de char: H si for et; H gueule for 
bouche. — 5. H omits le fleuve emporta; H tenoit ala au fons; 
H et si. — 6. H dont for que ; H la figure estoit for il cuidoit estre ; 
FH en for souz; H semblablement for ainssi. — 7. CEI omit 
aucuns; DH veulent; I cuide for vuelt; CEI il pert, DH perdent; 
DH le leur, F le leur avec la vie for le sien. 

[IV. Lion's Share] 

Dereohief il faint contre ceulz qui folement se acom- 
paignent as puissans hommes que la vache et la chievre 
et la brebis furent acompaigniees ensemble avec le lyon, 
et si comme il eussent vené es bois et il eussent pris un 
5 cerf, les parties faites, le lyon dist ainsi : " Je pren le 
premier quar ie sui lyon. La seconde partie est moie 
quar ie sui plus fort de vous. Et la tierce ie vous defent 
car g'i ay plus couru que vous. La quarte qui y atouchera 
il m'ara anemi." Et ainsi par sa grant mauvaistié il 
10 ot toute la proie. 

1. ACDEHI omit il faint; B compaignent. — 2. F omits 
hommes; CEI il faint que; H omits que; CH omit et. — 3. H 
s'estoient for furent; H furent ung jour; H omits ensemble. — 4. 
CE omit si; H couroient ensemble parmi ung bois ilz chassèrent 
ung cerf et le prindrent for eussent vené ... un cerf; BCEI au for 
es; CEI omit second il. — 5. H inserts after cerf: et fut le cerf 
mis en quatre parties afin que chacun eust la sienne et; I cerf et; 
CEI omit second le. — 7. que for de; C omits et. — 8. DH 
omit i; I le plus; I omits que vous; C et la, F a la; F quarte 
partie; CEI la for y; CDEHI touchera. — 9. omit il; CDEHI a 
anemi, F pour anemi; CEI omit grant. 

352 SNAVELY [6 

[V. Wolf and Crane] 

Et donc faint il contre ceulz qui aident as mauves 
folement, et dit ceste fable. Si comme le lou devouroit 
les os, un en traversa griefment entre ses dens. Le lou 
promist grant pris a qui cel mal osteroit, et prioit la 
5 grue au col lone que elle li donnast médecine. Tant fist 
que ele mist son col en sa bouche et li osta le mal de la 
bouche et de la gorge. Le lou guéri, la grue demanda 
sa promesse, et le lou li dist :"0! comme c'a esté grant 
injure as vertus de moy que celle grue retrait sa teste 
10 saine de ma gorge, et je estoie travaillié les dens, et 
el ne m'en scet gré et demande son loier." 

1. H encores far et donc. — 2. H mialement for folement; CE 
un for le; C lou si. — 3. H une beste l'un les; H des for les; 
H omits un en and inserts se rompit en sa gueule et; BH omit 
griefment; H par entre; H dens si qu'il ne le pouoit avoir; I mais 
le. — 4. Dons for pris; FH celui qui; CH pria. — 5. F au grant; 
ABCEH Ione col, F col et; C donnast la; F alegance for médecine. — 
6. El lui mist; FH gueule for bouche; CEF l'os, H cel os, I ce 
mal for le mal; BCEFI omit de la bouche et; I le mal c'est a 
dire l'os. — 7. H guele for bouche; CEI sa for la; CE gorge 
qui le grevoit; I gorge qui lui faisoit mal; F omits de la gorge 
and adds et fu guéri et. — 8. C. omits et; BI omit li; B dist 
a li; C et for o. — 9. Ha for as vertus de; H ceste for celle; 
H a tiré for retrait. — 10. DH omit et; H avoie for estoie; F mes 
for les; H omits et. — 11. F encore for el; F scet elle; H et 
si; B omits son; F de for son. 

De ces fables meïsmes contre les orgueilleus et pre- 
somptueus de vaine gloire : m 

[VI. Fox and Raven] 

De rechief contre ceulz qui s'esjoïssent de estre loëz 
de fausses paroles et puis s'en repentent il faint ceste fable. 
Si comme un corbel a voit pris un formage par aventure 
en une fenestre, il monta sus un haut arbre. Et quant 


5 le gourpil le vit de terre, il dist ainsi : " O corbel qui 
est ce que soit semblable a toi ! Comme tu es bien resplen- 
dissant de tes pennes ! Quel biauté ce fust se tu eusses 
la voiz clere ! Nul oysel ne fust premier de toy." Et 
ycelui qui li voult plaire et monstrer plus viguereusement 
10 sa voiz cria haut et le bec ouvert par oubliance geta 
hors le formage, le quel le gourpil traître ravi gloutement. 
Adone le corbel esbahi gemi et fu deceü du tout en 

(Heading) CEHI ce for ces fables; F plains de; CEH omit de 
vaine gloire. — 1. A inserts Exemple du corbel et du regnart; 
BI de for contre; A meismes qui — 2. B fiabe for fable. — 3. H 
omits si comme. — 4. H quelque for une; H a tout sus; H omits 
et quant. — 5. E un for first le; CH ung renard for le gourpil; 
H qui estoit a for de; H si for il; CH lui dist; H omits ainsi; 
I tu corbel; H quel oisel for qui. — 6. H ce en ce monde; DEHI 
qui for que; CEF est for soit; D semble; A omits a toi; CH omit 
comme; H as tes plumes moult for .es bien. — 7. H omits de tes 
pennes; D plumes for pennes; CEI fust de toy. — 8. Ce plus 
beau, H acomparager for premier; H a for de; I mais for et. — 9. 
CDEHI omit y; H le corbel for celui; BE omit H. — 10. CE omit 
par; I oubli; H laissa cheoir for geta hors. — 11. H formage 
a terre; H et for le quel; I omits le before gourpil; CH renart 
for gourpil; H l'emporta et le devora for ravi. — 12. I adone le 
gourpil saisi et; H demoura esbahi qui par la fraude du renard du 
for esbahi ... fu; D de tout en. 

[VIT. Sick Lion] 

Il faint une fable aussi en esmouvant les hommes qui 
sont en dignitez a estre débonnaires en ceste maniere. 
Come le lyon, greve de aage et ses forces defaillies, se 
geust et traioit au derrenier esprit, un cenglier vint a 
lui, courroucié, escumant et fronchant ses dens, et feri 
le lyon et vencha sa vielle haine. Le torel, son anemi, 
feri le lyon a ses cornes. Et, quant Tasne sauvage vit 
ce, il le défoula et li depieça le visage a ses piez. Et 


354 SNAVELY [8 

ycelui, en gémissant, souspirant dist : " Quant je estoie 
10 en ma vertu, je estoie craint et honnoré, si que touz 
s'enfuioient de mon regart, et cele opinion espoëntoit 
pluseurs. Et ceulz a qui je sui bien veullant et qui je ne 
bleçai onques, ceulz me font mal. Et pour ce que je sui 
sanz forces, je n'ai nule des premiers honneurs. 

1. A adds Exemple du lyon et du cenglier; B fiabe for fable; 
C aussi une fable; CEI omit en; I qui esmuet for esmouvant. — 2. 
H estre doulx et. — 3. H viel et greve; CE de ses; B les for ses; 
H omits et ses forces; CEH omit defaillies; CE omit se. — 4 C 
omits geust et; H malade et; A has trioit before traioit; BE traist; 
H tiroit; B darrenier; CE derrain; H souspir for esprit. — 5. I 
lui moult lui; H et escumant fronchant; H les for ses; EF omit et; 
C si, H qui for et. — 6. D en vengant, H pour soy venger for et 
vencha; C la, H d'une for sa; H haine qu'il avoit contre lui; I 
mais le; H torel aussi. — ■ 7. CEHF de for a; H cornes pour soy 
venger du temps passé. — 8. I foula; B son for le; H de for a. — 
9 H lors le lyon for ycelui; CEI celui lyon; CDEHI et souspirant, 
F et en souspirant. — 11. DH devant for de; CEI ma voiz for 
cele opinion. — 12. H maiz for first et; BCEI fus, H ay esté for 
sui; BCDEHI que for qui. — 13. H ilz for ceulz; C omits que. — 
14. CDEH force; ABFHI nulles, CDE nulz; I de mes for des. 

[VIII. Ass and Lap-Dog] 

De rechief il faint ceste fable contre . ceulz qui non 
convenablement s'enbatent, non pas dignes as meilleurs 
servises et offices. Un asne si veoit chascun jour a un 
chienet joïr son seigneur, et estoit touz les jours saoulé 
5 de sa table, et que la mesniee donnoit au chiennet pluseurs 
choses. Et l'asne dist ainsi : " Se mon seigneur aime 
ainsi une tres orde beste, et li et sa mesniee, combien 
m'amerà il miex, se je li fais le service. Je sui meilleur 
d'un chien. Je puis user de meilleur vie et avoir trop 
10 greigneur honneur." Et si comme l'asne pensoit ceu en 
soy meïsmes il vit son seigneur entrer ens, et li courut 


encontre hastivement criant et sailli sus et mis ses deux 
piez devant sus les espaules de son seigneur, les chant 
son maistre a la langue et honissant ses vestements et 
15 lassa trop son seigneur de sa pesanteur. Et toute la 
mesnie est esmeiie par le cri du seigneur et prennent 
fuz et pierres et bâtent tant Fasne que il le firent tout 
foible et li rompirent les costez et ainsi le chaçent en le 
stable demi mort. 

1. A adds Exemple de l'asne et du chienet; B omits fable. — 2. 
CEI embatent, DH esbatent; H omits non pas; I point; H indignes. 
— 3. A omits et offices; CEH omit si; CDEHI omit a. — 4. CEI 
enjoyr, H faire festes for joir; FH a son. — 5. CEI omit que; CEI 
mesniee qui lui, H mesniee pour faire plaisir au seigneur; CEI 
omit au chiennet. — 6. I mas for et; H seigneur et ses serviteurs; 
H aiment. — 7. D si; BFHI omit first et; HI omit li; H omits 
et sa mesniee and inserts de. — 8. H doit amer moy for m'amerà; 
H qui for se je; F et li; H tant de for le; B service je sui 
meilleur d'un chien qui sui profitable a plusieurs choses. Je sui 
norri d'eaues de fonteinnes nette viande m'est donnée. — 9. ACDEI 
du, H que n'est le for d'un; F et for je; D je ne, H doys for puis; 
I vivre for user; HI omit trop. — 10. F honneur que lui; H ainsi 
for et si. — 11. H si for et. — 12. H a l'encontre; I encontre 
moult; C haultement; H criant et huilant; CE sus lui; F les deu; 
D omits deux. — 13. EH piez de; D 1', I ses for les; CI omit 
de son seigneur; HI en leschant; C omits leschant. — 14. C de 
son; CDH omit a; B de for a; CDH omit la langue; BEI sa for 
la; D vestements en la langue, H vestements de sa langue. — 15. 
F travaillant for lassa trop; DH tant for trop; B omits trop; H 
maistre for seigneur; H pesanteur qu'il commença a hucher les 
gens en son aide; C omits toute; H tous les serviteurs for et . . . 
mesnie. — 16. H acourent au cry for est ... cri; CE fut for 
est; F se esmut for est esmeue; I son for du; CEH prindrent, 
D prennant, F pristrent, I prannent. — 17. CEF bastons for fuz; 
DHI omit et; H des pierres; D gectent sus et bâtent; H gecterent 
contre le povre asne et le bâtent; CEH bâtirent; H omits l'asne; 
CEHI omit le . . . foible et. — 18. BD rompent; EH les os et 
les; CEI omit ainsi; El l'en for le; CEFHI chassèrent, D chassent; 
h jusques en. — 19. H ou ilz le laissèrent demi. 

356 SNAVELY [10 

[IX. Lion and Mouse] 

De rechief a amonnester que nul ne mefïaee as petis, 
il faint ceste fable que le lyon dormant les souriz estoient 
en gest et par aventure Fune trespassa par dessus li. Et 
le lyon, esveillié en haste, prist la chaitive souriz a sa 
5 main isnele. Et eie li prioit merci, car ce n'avoit eie 
pas fait de son gré. Le lyon, pensant que ce seroit de 
la vengance de la souriz se il Poccioit, ce ne li seroit 
point d'onneur, si la lessa aler et li pardonna. Un 
pou après, le lyon chaï en une fosse. Et quant il se 

10 senti pris il commença a ruire et a crier a grant doleur. 
Et quant la souriz le sot elle courut a li et, la chose 
veüe, elle li dist : " Ne te doute pas. Je te rendrai 
semblable grace. Je n'ay pas oublié le bien que tu me 
feïs." Et donc commence a regarder touz les ars de 

15 ce piège, et a rungier les liens et les cordes as dens, 
et a despecier les engins de cel art. Et ainsi rendi la 
souriz franc le lyon qui estoit pris. 

1. A adds Exemple du lyon et de la souriz; H il amonneste for 
a amonnester; H tant soit grant ne; H efface ne mesdye. — 2. H 
et a ce propos il; BF omit ceste fable. — 3. I omits et. — 4. H 
qua la sentit for esveillié; DH omit en; DH omit haste; H omits 
chaitive; H souriz soudainement; CD en for a. — 5. H pate for 
main; H omits isnele; H crioit for prioit; H omits car ce n'avoit 
ele; CE que, I et que for car; C omits ele. — 6. H omits pas . . . 
gré and adds disant qu'elle ne pensoit pas a lui faire aucune 
desplaisir; I point; BF quel vengance for que; I seroit moult; 
BCEHI omit de. — 7. B omits first la; CEI petite, H grant honte 
a lui de prendre for first la; B omits vengance; H de si petite 
bastelete et que for de la souriz; CEI omit se il; CEI occire, H la 
tuoit for l'occioit; CEI omit ce ne li seroit; BF car ce; H qu'il 
n'y aroit gueres for ce ne li seroit point. — 8. I omits si; CE 
il for si; BF omit aler; H aler pour celle foiz; H ne demoura 
gueres que le lyon chay et fu prins for un pou après le lyon chai. — 
9. CEI dedens une roys en; H piège for fosse; CE sentit qu'il 
estoit for se senti. — 10. BF omit first a; CEHI braire for ruire; 


BCEI omit second a and CEI add par. — 11. C l'ouyt for le sot; 
H vers for sì; H quant elle le vit en eel estât for la chose veue; 
C omits la chose. — 12. CEI veue et seeue; D veue et; E omits li; 
A redoute for te doute; I point for pas; F rendrai sain et. — 13. 
I car je; B omits ay; I point for pas. — 14. H omits et; CDEHI 
commença; H toutes, I tretous; H cordes et engins for ars. — 15. 
H et commença; H omits second et. — 16. B omits a; C cest 
for cel; H mist for rendi; BF omit la souriz. — 17. H en franchise 
for franc; H prisonnier en danger de misérablement finir sa vie 
for pris; F adds au piège. 

De ce meïsme contre les gloutons enflez, orgueil- 
leus et de petit sens : iv 

[X. Dog and Thief] 

Encontre les gloutons qui a un disner perdent leur 
chose ordena il ceste fable. Comme un larron de nuit 
eüst donné a un chien du pain, le chien dist : " Il 
m'est donné pour grace. Tu me le donnes pour ce que 
5 tu me déçoives. Se tu me donnes maintenant pain tu 
ne le donras mie après quant je arai fain. Je ne veul 
pas tant seulement la vie presente, mes je pourvoi cele 
a venir. Je ne veul pas que tu cloes mes joes par ton 
pain, mes se tu ne t'en vas je abaierai contre toy et 
10 esveillerai mon seigneur et sa mesniee, et leur dirai: 
" C'est un larron." 

(Heading) F ESOPE for de ce meisme; DI omit gloutons; CDEI 
omit enflez; CE omit orgueilleus; H arrogans for orgueilleus; CDEI 
omit et de petit sens. (Fable X) A inserts Exemple du chien et 
du larron; D repeats perdent; H le leur. — 2. H omits chose; 
B omits fable; H omits comme. — 3. H donna for eust donné; 
H une grant piece de for du; B omits le chien dist il; H lui dist; 
HI le pain for il; I il si — 4. B omits m'est donné pour grace; 
A de for pour; HI mais tu; C a fin, H pour fraude afin for pour ce. 
— 5. H du pain. — 6. BD ne me; CEHI le me; D donnera, CDEH 
pas, I point for mie; H tous jours for après; F omits après. — 7. 
CE mie, I point for pas; H a cele. — 8. I point for pas; DH pour, 
I de for par. — 10. F mesniee toute; CH dirai que. 

358 SNAVELY [12 

[XI. Mountain and Mouse] 

De rechief contre ceulz qui sont trop espoëntez par 
vaines nouvelles, il faint ainsi: Une montaigne si en- 
fantoit et donnoit trop grans gemissemens ; et toute la 
nación, quant il oïrent ce, touz furent troublez si que il ne 
5 sorent que faire. Et en la fin cele montaigne enfanta 
une souriz, si que le mal que il cuidoient retourna a touz 
en noient a ceulz qui avoient eü paour. 

1. CEI le for contre; H de for par. — 2. CE omit si. — 
3. H tres douloreux for trop grans; H a for second et. — 4. BF 
elle for il; B oi, F ouy for oirent; H omits touz; CEHI ilz 
furent, — 6. F ceuls touz; CDEHI a for en. — 7. CDHI néant. 

[XII. Hares and Frogs] 

De rechief contre ceulz qui trop petiz ne pueent souffrir 
leur estât, il ordene ainsi. Comme une grant frainte venist 
as lièvres soudement, il pristrent conseil que pour les 
paours continuées il se tuëroient et se leroient cheoir 
5 et trebuehier. Et si comme il vindrent a la rive d'un 
fleuve, il virent moût de raynes qui la estoient qui orent 
paour d'eulz et se geterent el nueve. Et quant les lièvres 
virent ce, l'un d'eus dist : " Autres que nous sont paou- 
reus; ensuions nostre vie et l'ensuions comme ces autres 
10 que qu'il aviengne, ne il ne sera pas touz temps mal." 
Et qui ne puet souffrir mal, si regarde les maus des 

1. H de for trop; CEÏÏ omit ne; H se désespérant for pueent 
souffrir; I souffrir ne endurer. — 2. C dit for ordene; H une 
telle for ainsi; H feinte for comme; H frainte de gens; H survint 
en ung tropel de for venist as. — 3. H si s'en fuirent et loings 
for il; H conseil entre eulx. — 4. H. continuelles qu'ilz avoient 
for continuées; CEI omit se . . . trebuehier and insert il s'en 
yroient de leur region en autre pays; F il pristrent ordenance 
que ilz. — 5. H omits si; H pour ce faire for comme il; H en ung 


estang a; H duquel for d'un fleuve. — 6. CEI omit qui la estoient. 
— - 7. si grant paour; H qu'ilz for et; A es, CDEHI ou for el; 
A fleuves; I ces for les. — 8. CEI aux autres; CEI somes for sont; 
H paoureus aussi bien que nous. — 9. C et ensuions; H nous 
maintenons la for ensuions nostre; H vie Gu'avons acoustumee; 
CEFI omit et l'ensuions; H le temps for comme; CDE les for ces; 
H omits ces autres and adds je loe. — 10. CEFHI quoy for que; 
CEI aviengne et nous en retournons; CEI car, H que for ne; 
H omits il ne; CE fera for sera; I point for pas; H jours for 
temps; H mauvais for mal. — 11. CEI un lien for et; CEI son 
mal; CE omit si; ACDEHI le mal for les maus. 

[XIII. Strange Feathers] 

De rechief que aucuns ne se vante des estranges dons, 
il les amonneste, faignant que un grant corbel si avoit 
pris les pennes d'un paon qui estoient cheoites, et en 
estoit aorné et avoit les senes en despit, et se mesla 
5 en la compaignie des paons. Et les paons li vont oster 
que il ne le cognoissoient point les pennes moût vilaine- 
ment, et le mordent et esgratinent des ongles, et le chaitif 
delaissié des paons demi mort doubta arrière »aler a son 
propre genre. Car comme il estoit aorné des plus beles 
10 plumes estranges, il en espoënta pluseurs injurieusement. 
Et donc li dist un de ses compaignons : " Se tu eusses 
aimé la vesteiire que nature te donna, ce te souffisist, 
ne tu n'eusses pas souffert l'injure que il t'ont faite, 
et si ne fusses pas débouté de nous. 

1. A adds Exemple du corbel qui prist pennes de paon; CEI 
omit dons. — 2. A nous for les; CH omit les; CEHI omit si. — 
3. CDEHI plumes for pennes; C cheues for cheoites; BCEFH s'en 
for en; El et il. — 5. I mais for et; B les li; B vcMrent for 
vont; CEI omit li vont oster. — 6. H pour ce que, I bien que; 
CEI estoit qui congneurent for le cognoissoient; CE pas, F pour, 
I mie for point; CEI point de leur compaignie (I si) lui osterent; 
El ses for les; C omits les pennes; DEHI plumes for pennes; CEI 
omit moût. — 7. C ses ongles et; CDEHI mordirent, F bequent 
for mordent; C et 1'; CDEHI esgratinerent ; CE forment des; I 

360 SNAVELY [14 

moult griefment des; CEI de leurs for des. — 8. D moult for 
mort; A mort il; BF sa for son. — 9. BF nature for genre; B quant 
for comme; B s'estoit, DH fust for estoit; CDEH de for des; BF 
omit plus beles; A pennes et beles. — 10. A omits en; H pluseurs 
si le villenerent et mutilèrent. — 11. CE omit et; B vist il for 
dist; C des for de. — 12. CEI et for ce. — 13. CEI omit ne; 
DHI point for pas, E omits pas. 

[XIV. Stag and Antlers] 

De rechief contre ceulz meïsmes qui a eulz meïsmes 
loent choses non profitables. Le cerf bevant a la fontaine, 
si comme il vit ses cornes grans, il les commença a 
loër et ses cuisses gresles et tenvres a blasmer. Et 
5 comme il feïst ce, il of soudement les veneurs et la 
vois des chiens abaier, et s'en eschapa en fuie parmi 
un champ. Et quant il entra el bois, la grandeur de 
ses cornes le retint si que les veneurs le pristrent. Et 
donc il voiant sa mort dist : " Les choses qui m'estoient 
10 profitables je blasmóle, et looie les nuisanz." 

1. A adds Exemple du cerf; BCFH omit meismes. — 2. F 
venant for bevant; H en une for a la. — 5. H eust fait for 
feist. — 6. H abaier si; H tourna fuiant for en fuie. — 7. I mais 
for et; ABCDEFHI ou for el. — 9. C Oui for il; H quant vit 
for voiant; I n' for m'. 

[XV. Ant and Fly] 

De rechief contre ceulz qui se loent contencieusement. 
Le formi et la mousche tençoient aigrement laquelle 
estoit meilleur de eulz. Et dist la mousche : " Tu ne 
te pues comparagier a noz loënges. La ou les entrailles 
5 sont sacrefiees, j'en gouste la premiere; et me sie sus 
la teste du roy et donne douz besiers a toutes les dames. 
Des quiex choses tu, formi, ne fais rien." Donc dist 
le formi : " Tu as dit ce contre toy, mauvaise pestilence 


loe ta mauvaistié ! Viens tu la désirée ? Nenil. Les 
10 roys et les dames que tu nommes, te tiennent a mauvaise 
et y vas malgré leur. Et tu dis tout estre tien, et tu es 
chaciee la ou tu vas, et es aussi comme par injure 
dechaciee de ça et de la. Tu ne pues que en esté quant 
il n'est point de froit, et je vraiement sui en esté et en 
15 y ver, et les choses d'yver sont délicieuses a moy, et tu 
en es hors boutée comme orde et puante. 

1. A adds Exemple du fourmi et de la mousche after conten- 
cieusement. — 2. I tenoient for tencoient; CEFI tencoient ensemble; 
H pour ce que chascun des deux disoit estre plus digne de louenge 
for laquelle . . . eulz. — 3. I estoit la; CE eulz deux. — 4. B 
omits te; CE acompaigner, FI acomparagier, H acomparer; CE 
mes for noz; H moy for noz loenges; CEH car La. — 5. CDEHI 
sur for sus. — 6. CEI table for teste; H d'un for du. — 7. CEI 
omit formi; CEFHI adone for donc. — 8. D la formy; I ce dit; 
B moy for toy. — 9. B tu for ta; F car viens; H tu ne peuz 
vanter for viens . . . désirée; F sanz estre for la; C mandée, 
D derrière, El dessure for désirée; B nennin, FH omit nenil; H car 
les. — 10. C omits que tu nommes; I tres mauvaise. — 11. H 
car <tu for first et; CEHI eulx for leur; DH omit last et; H de 
par tout for tu es chaciee. — 12. I par tout la; H tu for et; 
CDH ainsi for aussi. — 13. CDEHI chassée; H vivre que; CEI 
et quant. — 14. FH ne fait for n'est. — 15. I mais for second et. 
— 16. CDEI omit en; E boutée hors. 

De ce ineïsme contre les povres orgueilleux et les 
riches desloiaux et non estables : v 

[XVI. Frog and Ox] 

De rechief contre le povre orgueilleus. Une raine vit 
un buef pessant en un pré et cuidoit que ele peüst estre 
faite icele se eie empio it sa piau froncie. Et ele, enflant 
soy, demanda a ses filz se ele estoit ja aussi grant comme 
5 un buef; et il distrent que non. Et ele s'enfla plus de 
rechief et demanda as siens se ele estoit buef; les quiex 
respondirent que eie ne li resembloit de riens. Et tierce 

362 SNAVELY [16 

foiz, si comme ele s'enfloit, la piau rompi et ele est morte. 
Et pour ce est il dit communément : " Ne vous enflez 
10 pas que vous ne crevez." 

(Heading) B inserts v; F omits de ce meisme; C reads les povres 
et les riches orgueilleux; DEI omit orgueilleux; CH omit desloiaux, 
H inserts variables; CDEH omit non estables; B omits v; C reads 
Ve. (Fable XVI) 1. A inserts Exemple de la raine et du buef; 
CE les povres. 2. H omits que; DH omit ele peust . . . faite. — 
3. BDFH telle, CEI tele for icele; H maiz qu' for se; H emplist 
fort for emploit; H pauce si menga fort et but tant qu'ele for 
piau . . . enflant; D se enflant. — 4. DH omit soy; B que for 
comme. — 5. I mais for second et; CEI omits s'; B plus et, H plus 
fort. — 6. B ele leur for et; H lors e 4 "; B omits as siens; I et ilz; 
CEI sa for la; CEFHI omit ele; F omits et est morte; BCEI fut 
for est; H mourut for est morte. — 9. H ou for est i 1 ; C omits 
vous. — 10. H pas tant. 

[XVII. Proud Horse and Ass] 

De rechief que ceulz qui beneurez se cuident ne facent 
injure a nul et se remembrent que la roe de fortune 
est doubteuse. Un cheval, aorné de frain d'argent et 
de belle selle d'or, courut contre un asne de loing en un 
5 lieu estroit, et estoit chargié et travaillié. Et pour ce 
avoit l'asne a celui trespassant lessié plus tart la voie 
pour ce que il estoit lassé de la voie, le cheval dist: 
" Se je ne me retenisse assez, je te rompisse tout des 
piez, que quant tu m'encontras ne me donnas pas lieu, 

10 ou tu ne arrestas tant que je passasse." Et le chetif 
asne se tut et gemi pour la paour et pour l'orgueil de 
li. Et pou après de temps le cheval fait rompu maigre 
en courant et en chevauchant, fu mené du commandement 
de son maistre a porter le tiens as champs et a vilz 

15 aornemens aloit par le chemin chargié. Et pour ce que 
l'asne paissant es prés le cognut si chaitif et si maleüré, 
il le commença a blasmer par tel son : " Que t'ont profitié 


ces précieux aornemens dont tu avoies tel hardiesce, et 
maintenant tu uses avec nous de vilaines offices." 

1. A adds Exemple du cheval orgueilleus ; BF de for que. — 
2. H leur souviengne for remembrent; CEI de for que. — 3. CE 
qui trop est; I qui est; D omits et. — 4. CE omit belle. — 5. CE 
estoit l'asne; I chargié l'asne. — 6 D a icelui H au cheval for a 
celui; H ocupé for lessié; DH omit plus . . . lassé. — 7. H omits 
de; CEI omit de la voie; F charge for voie; F et le, I mais le; 
B dist a l'asne. — 8. Ha peu for je; H feust for retenisse assez; 
DH tous; D tez, F de mes, H tes for des. — 9. H pour ce que; 
F qui for que; CEI tu for ne; H feiz for donnas pas; CEI omit 
pas; H voie for lieu. — 10. H ou que; CEI omit tu ne; I toy 
for te; CEI jusques a tant; CEHI fusse passé for passasse; I mais 
for et; H mais for et. — 12. CEI omit de temps; CEI fut, F fu 
fait, H devint for fait; BCDEFHI rompu et. — 13. CE omit en; 
C si fu; FI et fu. — 14. EF les for le. — 15. C et aloit; I 
parmi for par; F omits et. — 16. A l'en recognut for le cognut; 
H et si. — 17. B se for le; H en lui disant for par tel; F telz; 
F moy for son; H omits son; D ton for t'ont. — 18. CEFH tes 
for ces; I que en for dont; A repeats et maintenant. — 19. E des; 
CEI vilz for vilaines. 

[XVIII. Bat, Birds and Beasts] 

De rechief contre ceulz qui se partent desloyaument 
des leur et trespassent as autres. Les bestes si faisoient 
guerre avecques les oysiaus, et Fune partie ne vainquoit 
l'autre, mes se combatoient forment; et la chauve souriz 
5 doutoit les grieves aventures et la grant compaignie des 
bestes, et elle qui estoit haut en Pair, se mist avec les 
bestes aussi comme avec les vainqueurs. Et soudement 
l'aigle vint avec les oysiaus et se mesla as bestes et, 
les bestes fuians s'en, la victoire fu des oisiaus; et puis 
10 sont retournez arrière les oisiaus et les bestes a la premiere 
pais. Et la chauve souriz fu condampnee par la sentence 
des oisiaus; pour ce que elle avoit les siens lassiez et 
est despoilliee de ses plumes pour voler nue par nuit. 

364 SNAVELY [18 

Aussi cil qui ara mesfait nuisant as deux parties, il est 
15 mal agréable a Tun et l'autre et vit plus nuisant a lui 

1. A adds Exemple de la chauve souriz; I de for contre; CEI 
départent for partent. — 2. BF de; CDEFHI leurs; BF estas et; 
CEI omit si. — 3. CEI contre for avecques; A des parties for 
partie; H pouvoit vaincre for vanquoit; BF vainquoit point. — 5. 
CEI omit grieves. — 6 C bestes cuidant tout ce estre moult bien 
a son avantaige; F ce for et; F estoit en. — 7. CH ainsi for 
aussi; I omits aussi; DH omit avec. — 8. I si vint; F omits et 
se . . . victoire; CEI et les desconfist et. — 9. CEHI omit s'en; 
H se mist avec les oiseaulx qui obtindrent la; FH omit fu des 
oisiaus; CEI aux for fu des. — 10. H firent for sont; H omits 
retournez; H omits arriere . . . premiere. — 11. H. pais entre 
eulx; I mais for et; H et fu lors; CEI omit par la; CEI omit 
sentence des oisiaus. — 13. CEI omit est, F fu for est; CEI a 
for pour; I omits nue. — 14. DH et aussi; CH ainsi for aussi; 
C omits il, — 15. F et a; CDEHI une; BCDEFHI a l'autre; 
CDEHI omit et . . . meismes; F que aidant for a lui meismes. 

Contre les envieus et folz et vendanz leur fran- 
chises : vi 

[XIX. Sparrow-Hawk and Linnet] 

De rechief contre les aguetans a mal faire. Si comme 
un esprevier s'estoit assis sus le ni d'une linote pour 
regarder le temps, il trouva illeuc petiz poucins, et la 
linote seurvint tant tost et pria a celui que il espargnost 
5 a ses poucins. " Je ferai/' dist il, " ce que tu veulz se 
tu me chantes bien." Et icelle fist oultre son courage 
comme contrainte de paour et plaine de douleur, et chanta. 
L'esprevier qui avoit trouvé sa proie dist : " Tu n'as pas 
bien chanté," et prist un des poucins et le commença 
10 a devourer. Et un oiselleur le vint d'une autre partie, 
et a une petite hautelete recorbee au bout prist l'esprevier 
et le geta a terre. Et ainsi ceulz qui espient les autres 
doivent craindre que il ne soient pris. 


(Heading) H Derechief contre; B le; C francz, D lefrans, EI frans 
for folz; CEHI omit second et. (Fable XIX) A adds Exemple de 
l'espervier et de la linote; H il feint une telle fable for si comme. — 
3. I petiz enfans; I mais for et. — 5. C omits a. — 6. CEI omit 
me; CEI contre for oui tre. — 7. E doulceur for douleur; CEI omit 
second et; I chanta mais; I point for pas. — 9. I omits le; I dist 
tu seras devoré for commença a devourer. — 10. F omits un oiselleur 
le; CEI homme for oiselleur; B'DH omit le; CEI leur for le; A vit 
for vint. — 11. CEI omit et; C a tout; F omits au bout; CEI 
bout et. — 12. F aussy for ainsi; I omits ceulz. — 13. CEI et 
doubter que; F a estre for que il ne soient; CEI espiez et pris; 
I esprins for pris. 

[XX. Man and Trees] 

De rechief que aucuns ne preste armeiires a son anemi. 
Comme la coignie fust faite, Pomme requeroit as arbres 
que il li donnassent manche de fust qui fust ferme. 
Laquelle chose faite, Tomme prist le manche et le ap- 
5 propria a la coignie et en coupoit les rains et les grans 
arbres et tout ce que il vouloit. Donc dist le chesne 
au f resne : " Nous usons dignement et bien qui comme 
avugles a nostre anemi depriant avon donné manche." 
Et pour ce chascun se pourpense avant que il ne preste 
10 a son anemi armeiire. 

1. ACDEHI omit que aucuns; H on ne doit; DH préster, CDEHI 
preste nulles; CEI ton for son; H anemi par cest exemple. — 2. H 
quant for comme; CE requist. — 3. CEI omit qui fust. — 5. H 
omits grans. — 7. BF souffrons ceste chose, H avons esté for usons; 
H bien abusez for dignement et bien; C omits comme avugles. — 

8. C a nous for avon; CEI manche de quoy il nous destruit. — 

9. F omits se; CEHT omit ne. — 10. CEI omit armeure and 
insert chose dont (C de quoy) mal lui puisse (I puet) venir. 

[XXI. Dog and Wolf] 

De rechief a la loënge de franchise il faint que comme 
le chien et le lou se assemblassent ensemble en un bois, 

366 SNAVELY [20 

le lou dist au chien : " De quoy est ce que tu es si 
luisant et si gras ? " Et le chien irespondi : " Car je 
5 sui garde de la maison mon maistre contre les larrons 
et m'est le pain aporté et mon seigneur me donne des os. 
Et toute la mesnie me aiment et me donnent de la 
viande, et l'yaue ne me faut point, et couche souz la 
couverture. Et ainsi demaine ma vie sanz riens faire/' 

10 Au quel le lou dit : " Frère, je voudroie bien que ces 
choses m'avenissent, que je oiseus fusse saoule de viande 
et vesquisse miex souz couverture." Et dist le chien: 
" Se tu veulz que il te soit bien, si vien avec moy et 
n'aies paour." Et si comme il aloient ensemble, le lou 

15 vit le col au chien lié de chaënnes, et dist: " Qu' est 
ceci, frère ? Quel est ce lien que tu as entour le col ? " 
Et le chien dist : " Je sui liez aucunes foiz, car je en 
sui plus aigre; et sui deslié par nuit dedenz l'ostel et 
me vois esbatant entre les maisons et dorm la ou je 

20 veul." Et le lou dist : " 11 ne m'est mestier user de 
tiex choses que tu m'as loees. Je veul vivre franc, quar 
je vois tout franc a ma volente la ou je veul a ce qui 
me plest. Nule chaiënne ne me tient. Nule cause ne 
me empeesche. Les voies me sont aouvertes as champs. 

25 Je gouste le premier des bestes. Je escharnis les chiens 
par mon enging. Vif si comme tu as acoustumé, et si 
je vivrai si comme j'ay acoustumé aussi." 

1. A adds Exemple du chien et du loup; F omits comme. — 

4. BF il for le chien; CH omit car and H inserts pour ce que. — 

5. CH de mon; B omits mon maistre. — 6. D omits second et. — 
7. BCEFHI aime; CEI donne. — 10. F tiex for ces. — 11. D et 
que; F fusse et. — 12. C omits miex; C la couverture; C et 
adone; I et lors. — 13. BCDEFHI omit si. — 14. C aies pas, 
F aies nulle; D pour for paour; I mais for et; I omits ensemble. — 
15. H du for au; H si lui for lié de chaënnes et; ACDEI d'une 
for de; ACDEI chaiënne; I lui dist et. — 16. CI cy, D ce, H cela 
for ceci; D le for ce; I qui est for que tu as; CEI ton for le. — 17. 
I mais for et; I lui dist; CE liez entour mon col. — 19. C contre, 
I parmi for entre; CEI me dorm. — 20. A lors for et; D omits 


il; D de user; H des for de tiex. — 21. B omits tu; F loee. — 
22. H et a ce; CEI en for a; CI qu'il for qui. — 23. C omits me; 
I retient; FI ne nule; C chose for cause. — 24. C es for as; 
C adds et aux boys, E aux boiz, I au boys after champs. — 25. C 
evite for escharnis. — 26. CE omit si; BCDEFHI omit second si. 
— 27. CE omit si; H ainsi que for comme; CEHI omit aussi. 

Contre les envieus, paresceus, folz, et avers, van- 
teurs, loueurs, et menteurs : vu 

[XXII. Belly and Members] 

De rechief contre les paresceux qui labourer ne veulent, 
il faint ceste fable que les mains et les piez orent despit 
du ventre et ne li vouldrent donner viande, pour ce 
que sanz nul travail, que il feïst, il estoit touz jours 
5 replani et se seoit tout oiseus, et en despit de lui ne 
voudrent labourer, et li deneerent tout servise. Le ventre 
vraiement tout familleus crioit, mes eulz ne li vouldrent 
riens donner par pluseurs jours. Le ventre certes geu- 
nant, les membres toutes se laschièrent. Et après ce 
10 ceulz voudrent donner viande au ventre, et le ventre les 
refusa, car il avoit ja clos les voies. Et ainsi les mem- 
bres et le ventre lassez morurent ensemble. 

(Heading) H de rechief contre; H omits envieus; F vains for 
folz; H omits folz et avers; D omits et; F avers et; CDEHI omit 
vanteurs; F vanteurs et; F flateurs for lobeurs; F porteurs de 
nouvelles for menteurs. (Fable XXII) 1. A adds Exemple des 
mains et des piez qui orent despit du ventre. — 2. B'F omit 
ceste fable; B un despit. — 3. C plus donner. — 4. H face for 
feist; ADH est for estoit. — 5. CEI rempli for replani; H omits 
tout; CEI ilz ne. — 6. C défendirent for deneerent. — 7. H omits 
vraiement tout familleus; CDEFI omit tout; H crioit de rage de 
faim; A il, CDEHI ilz for eulz. — 8. B omits certes. — 9. 
BCDEFHI tous. — 10. A il, CEI ilz, DH qu'ilz for ceulz; I mais 
for et; DH omit et le ventre; H ventre il; CEI le, DH la for les. — 
11. F refuse. — 12. I tous ensemble. 

ì68 SNAVELY [22 

[XXIII. Monkey and Fox] 

De rechief contre envie et avarice, il faint ceste fable 
que le singe pria le gourpil que il li donnast de la grandeur 
de sa queue, que il en couvrist ses nadies tres laides. 
" Quel profit as tu," dist il, " que tu la traines si longue 
5 et si pesant par terre ? " Au quel le gourpil dist : " Je 
aime miex que ele soit faite greigneur et plus longue, 
et que je la traine par terre, par pierres, par espines, et 
par boe, que tu fusses veii plus bel de la couverture de 
cele." " Riche," dist il, " et aver, il te blame par sa 
10 fable que tu ne donnes ce de quoy tu as trop." 

1. A adds Exemple du singe et du gourpil; I omits et avarice; 
BF omit ceste fable — 2. H omits que; C ung regnart, H le 
renart for le gourpil. — 3. CDEHI a fin que; F si que; B nues 
for tres. — 4. CEI en disant for dist il. — 5. CH regnart for 
gourpil. — 7. E le for la; D près for pierres. — 8. C la boe; 
H embely for veu plus bel; CEI par for de; CDEFHI d'icelle. — 
9. H inserts O before riche; H has je for second il; D omits sa, 
H ceste for sa. — 10. H pour ce que; BF quant for que; H 
donnes mie; I or for ce; D ce que. 

[XXIV. Workman and Ass] 

De rechief contre ceulz qui par annui de vivre et de 
travaillier désirent la mort. Un laboureur fu qui son 
asne chargié batoit en la voie d'un fouet et d'une verge 
pour ce que il venist tost a la foire pour cause de 
5 gaaignier. L'asne desiroit la mort et cuidoit estre seiir 
après, et li lasse et casse. Après sa mort sont fais tabors 
et timbres de la pel de cel asne qui cuidoit estre seiir, 
et il sont touz jors batus. 

1. A adds Exemple; C omits third de. — 2. BF travail. — 3. 
H asne tout. — 4. BFH omit pour ce and H inserts afin. — 5. 
BF gaing; I mais l'asne. — 6. H si tost li; F casse que; F fussent 
for sont; H mourut leu fist for après . . . fais. — 7. H cribles 


for timbres; BF sa for la; CDH de cest, I cl'icelui for de eel; 
H omits qui cuidoit estre seur; F after seur inserts de sa pel sont 
entendus les chetis sers qui ont esperance de recouvrer franchise. — 
8. H par ce moyen il; H fut for sont; H plus batu que devant for 
touz jors batuz. 

[XXV. Fox and Grapes] 

De rechief contre ceulz qui ce qu'il ne pueent faire, 
demonstrent il pouoir faire par paroles et par volente. 
Un gourpil contraint de fain regarda une grape pendant 
en haut, et il se boutoit sus un haut degré, et tant de 
5 foiz comme il y vouloit ataindre, il ne pouoit. Et en 
la par fin dist il : " Je ne te veul point ; tu es aigre 
et non pas meure." Et aussi comme se il ne la daignast 
touchier, il s'en ala. 

1. A adds Exemple du gourpil; C omits de rechief; D repeats 
ce; CE omit ce qu'il; D omits ne; H le feignent laisser for faire 
demonstrent; CI faire et. — 2. CHI omit il; CDEHI omit pouoir; 
F pouoir de; H omits faire; CDEFHI parole; D la volente. — 
3. CH regnart for gourpil; H omits de fain. — 4. BF omit en; 
C monta, El s'en monta for se boutoit; DH omit haut; H omits 
second et. — 5. DH omit y; H ataindre et; Ho, for en. — 6. 
CEI omit par; BF omit il; CEHI n'en for ne te; D omits te; H elle 
est trop for tu es. — 7. H peu for non pas; I point for pas; CH 
ainsi for aussi; D omits se; DH n'y for ne la. — 8. El omit il. 

[XXVI. Monkeys and Men] 

De rechief contre les lobeürs et raconteurs de nouveles. 
Deus hommes, l'un faus, l'autre vray, si comme il aloient 
par terre, il vindrent en la province des singes. Et si 
comme un des singes, qui estoit establi greigneur mestre 
5 que les autres, les vit, il commanda ces hommes estre 
tenuz et demander leur que il diroient de lui. Et com- 
manda touz les autres singes semblables a li ester eulz a 
destre et a senestre de li, et commanda que l'en li 

370 SNAVELY [24 

feïst un siege bel et grant si comme il avoit aucune 

10 faiz veü faire. Et adone il a commandé ces hommes estre 
amenez devant. Et dist celui greigneur singe : " Qui sui 
je ? Di ! " Et le tricheur respondí : " Tu es emperiere." 
Et il dist de rechief : " Et ceulz que tu vois ci ester devant 
moy ? " Et il respandi : " Il sont contes et chevaliers 

15 et princes et ont ces autres offices." Celui adonques est 
loé en sa mençonge, et est commandé avoir grans dons, 
pour ce que il Pa lobé et deceüs touz les autres. Et 
l'autre veritable homme disoit en soy meïsmes : " Cestui 
qui est menteur et faux, qui est ainsi guerredoné de sa 

20 mençonge! Que serai je se je di voir?" Adone li a 
ce singe demandé : " Di tu, quel sui je, et ceulz que tu 
vois entour moy ?" Celui qui amoit vérité respondí : " Tu 
es un singe, et touz ceulz ci sont singes semblables a 
toy." Et maintenant il est commandé estre despecié as 

25 dens et as ongles pour ce que il avoit dit ce qui estoit 
voir. En ceste maniere seult il estre fait des mauvais 
hommes que fallaces et malices soient amez, et honnesté 
et vérité soit despité. 

1. A adds Exemple des singes; A menconges for nouveles; CEI 
nouveles il faint ceste fable. — 2. H omits il. — 3. B omits et 
. . . singes; H omits si. — 4. E saiges for singes; H estaient. — 
5. CEI des for que les; CEI les H qu'ilz for ces hommes; H 
feussent retenuz pour savoir for estre . . . demander. — 6. C de- 
manda, E demande, I omits demander; ACDEHI omit leur; H omits 
second et; CEHI omit commanda. — 7. H transposes touz ... de 
li after faire, l. 10; CEI entour for semblables a; H feussent for 
ester; B soi for eulz, CEHI omit eulz. — 8. Ha coste de; CEI 
omit de li; H si for second et; CEI on for l'en. — 9. I feist 
venir; CEH beau; H omits et and si. — 10. H faire et si ordonna 
que; H en après for et adone; CDEI omit adone; CEI omit il a 
commandé; FH commanda for a commandé; D a ces, H que ces; 
CEHI ces deux; H feussent for estre. — 11. ABCDEFHI devant 
lui; H lors dist a l'un; H ce for celui; H maistre for greigneur; 
CEI singe a ces deux hommes. — 12. C omits di; H omits le; 
H l'homme tricheur; H respondí le premier et dist; H es ung 
droit. — 13. C omits et il dist de rechief; F demanda, H l'interroga 


for dist; H omits second et; CEI entour for ci ester devant. — 
14. H moy qui sont ilz; CEF dist for et il respondí; DI omit 
et il respondí; H ce for second il; H sont ducs; CDEHI omit second 
et; H chevaliers barons. 

15. H omits ont ces; C telz, EF tes for ces; F nobles for 
autres; H officiers; H cest homme cy for celui adonques; CEFH 
fut for est. — 16. H fort avancé a la court des singes for loé; 
H pour for en; F fu for est; H lui furent for est commandé; F qu'il 
eust, H donnez for avoir; B grant for don. — 17. CEFHI omit 1'; H 
avoit for a; H omits lobé ... et and inserts menty mais. — 18. H 
homme ce voiant; C a for en; H se cestui. — 19. DH omit qui; 
I est for et; H trompeur for faux; H omits qui. — 20. H feray 
for serai; DF omit li. — 21. ACDEHI le, F celui for ce; F demande 
et; H omits di tu; CF toy; CH qui for quel; I tous ceulz. — 22. 
J environ for entour; F moy et. — 23. D ces for ceulz; D omits 
sont. — 24. C incontinent, H tantost for maintenant; CEF fut for 
est; H le maistre single commanda qu'il feust dessiré for il . . . 
despecié; F a estre. — 26. B voir et; C souloit. — 27. CEHI 
omit que; H qui par flaterie et menterie for fallaces et malices; B 
malice; HI sont; H avancez for amez; F amez et honnorez; D honne 
for honnesté et; CEFI honnestés. — 28. CEI vrais disans, F veri- 
tez for vérité; CEFI soient; H maiz on n'a cure de oyr for et . . . 
despité; A despité et haie. 

Contre les orgueilleus, peresceus, et en quel ma- 
niere il est a user de ces fables : vin 

[XXVII. Ass and Lion.] 

De rechief contre ceulz qui ne veulent riens faire par 
vertu et espoëntent les autres par paroles et par mains. 
L'asne si vint de diverses parties et acourut contre le 
lyon, et dist ainsi : " Montón el quaquevel de cele mon- 
5 taigne, et je te monsterrai que pluseurs me craignent." 
Et lyon riant li dit : " Alon." Et si comme il vindrent 
au lieu, l'asne estent soy en eel lieu, et commença a crier 
a voiz basse. Et quant les lièvres et les gourpilz lVïrent. 
il commencierent a courir. Au quel le lyon dist : " Et 

372 SNAVELY [26 

10 ta voiz me pourrist ele espoënter se je ne savoie qui tu 

(Heading) H omits contre . . . fables and inserts contre ceulz 
qui ne font nulz beaux faiz et l'exortation de l'aucteur; CDEI 
envieux for orgueilleus F omits peresceus; CI omit et; D omits en; 
I omits en . . . fables; CDE omit de ces fables. (Fable XXVII) 
1. H qui a la vérité; H font nulz beaux faiz maiz for veulent . . . 
vertu et. — 2. D vérité for vertu; H de parole for par paroles; 
BF omit second et; B tres sainnes, F vainnes, H de maniere for 
par mains. — 3. H li asnes; CEI omit si; B diverse partie; H 
regions for parties. — 4. H lui dist; BCDEHI ou for el; BCEH 
sommet, F sommerei for quaquevel; CEH ceste for cele. — 5. I 
omits te; H tu verras for je te monsterrai. — 6. BCDEFI le lyon; 
I lou for lyon. — 7. H ou hault for au lieu; CE omit estent soy; 
H s'estendy for estent soy; B ou for en; CE omit en cel lieu; ADHI 
ce, B dit for cel; BCEF omit et. — 8. CH regnartz for gourpilz. — 
9. CE si for il; D omits le; CH omit et. — 10. BCDEFI pour- 
roit; B ausi for ele; F ele aussy; H omits ta . . . fusses and inserts 
je croy que tu me feroies paour se je ne t'avoie onques veu; CE ne 
te congnusse et ne; CF que. 

[XXVIII. Lion and Fox]. 

De re~chief contre ceulz qui legierement entrent en la 
maison des puissans hommes. Le lyon si faignoit que 
il estoit malade, et par ceste fallace, si comme les autres 
bestes venoient a li visiter il les mengoit maintenant. Et 
5 le gourpil vint devant la fosse au lyon et le salua. Et 
le lyon li demanda pour quoi il n'entroit ens. Et il 
renpondi : " Pour ce que je voi bien la trace des entranz, 
mais je ne la voy point des issans." 

1. A adds Exemple; CEI de for contre. — 2. B du poissant 
homme; CE omit si; C faignant estre for faignoit . . . estoit. — 
4. CEI bestes le; CEI omit a li; DH le for li; C incontinent for 
maintenant; CE et si comme. — 5. C regnart for gourpil; CEI 
du for au; C omits second et, I mais for et. — 7. H de ceulz qui 
y entrent for des entranz. — 8. CEHI omit la; CDE pas; CEI 
la trace des; H celle de ceulx qui en yssent for des issans. 


[XXIX. Ant and Cricket]. 

De rechief contre les peresceus. Le formi el temps 
d'yver traioit le tourment de sa fosse hors et le sechoit, 
le quel formi il avoit conqueilli en esté. Le gressillon si 
le prioit que il li donnast aucune chose de viande pour 
5 vivre, car il mouroit de fain. Auquel le fourmi dist: 
" Que f aisoies tu en esté ?" " Je n'i entendoie point," 
dist il, " mes me esbatoie par les buissons et chantoie." 
Le formi adone, riant et encloant son forment, dist : " Se 
tu chantas en esté, si sail en yver." Ceste fable enseigne 
10 le pereceus que il laboure en certain temps, si que quant il 
ara petit, il n'ara pas ce que il demandera. 

1. A adds Exemple; ABDFH ou, CEI par for el. — 2. C si 
traioit; CH tiroit for traioit; C hors de; BCF la for sa; E omits 
hors. — 3. BFH forment for formi; C formi si; CDEI 1' for il; 
CE 'esté et; BF criquet for gresillon; CE omit si. — 4. CDEHI 
lui for le; I pria. — 5. H demanda for dist. — 7. I parmi for 
par. — 8. D si for se. — 10. ACDHI les, F au for le; CDEHI 
ilz for il; ABCDEHI labourent; F temps de prospérité; FH omit 
si . . . demandera; F inserts que il n'ait deffaute en temps d'aver- 
sité, H inserts pour recueillir et vivre en l'autre. — 11. I appétit 
for petit. 


Uaucteur. Ces choses ay je voulu estraire des fables 
de Esope, les quelles se par aventure aucune chose en 
plaise reciter en commun, si comme aucuns des sages le 
font pour alegier l'ennui des oyanz, qui sont delictez de 
5 tiex choses. Et avec sont veiiz avoir aucune chose de bon 
edefiement pour les demonstrances qui i sont. Et toute 
voies ne estime je pas ce a estre fait fors sagement et 
espergnablement, si que ceulz qui par saintes paroles 
doivent estre apelez a voie de penitence et a la devoción 
10 de Dieu, il ne soient pas trop enjoïs en ris et en j olivete. 

374 SNAVELY [28 

Et avec ce que a raconter les fables aussi comme deüement 
a l'essample des preeschans il ne soient mal enformez. 
De rechief savoir mon se cestui Esope soit celui qui Ensebe 
tesmoigne estre occis des Delphins le premier an de Cyri, 
15 ou se ce fu un autre je n'en sui pas certain. 
Maintenant certes je retorne a ma matière. 

1. D omits l'aucteur. — 2. des for les. — 4. CEH se delic- 
tent for sont delictez CEI en oyant, H en for de. — 5. CEHI 
avec ce; C aulcunes choses. — 6. CDEFHI toutes. — 7. BF foiz 
for voies; I escripve for estime; CI point for pas; CEI omit a. — 
8. D que for qui. — 10. CEI omit il; I point for pas; BCFI ne 
for et. — 11. I omits et . . . enformez; C en for a; B ces for 
les; CDH ainsi for aussi. — 12. ACDEH pas mal. — 13. Ha 
savoir; D ce for se; Ce est for soit; CDEHI que for qui. — 14. F 
a estre. — 15. B omits se. — 16. A omits maintenant . . . 
matière and inserts ci fenist ce livret Esope; I mais certes; F mais 
il est temps maintenant que certes; BF omits certes. 



Murray P. Brush 

Among the numerous collections of Aesopic fables found 
in Italian literature before the sixteenth century, none shows 
greater beauty of form or greater finish in detail than that 
compiled toward the middle of the fifteenth century by Accio 
Zueco, of Somma Campagna, a small village near Verona. 
It is a translation of the well-known twelfth century collec- 
tion in Latin distichs usually attributed to Walter of England/ 
and consists of sixty-four fables in sonnets, 2 there being two 
to each fable, one for the example, the other for the moral. 
It is preceded by a prologue, and also by an introduction 
of four sonnets, 3 and is followed by a thirty-two line Can- 

1 For the collection of Walter of England, or the Anonymous 
Neveleti as it is sometimes called, see Leopold Hervieux, Les Fabu- 
listes Latins, 2nd éd., Paris 1893 sq., I, 472-502, n, 316-351; W. 
Foerster, Lyoner Ysopet, Heilbronn, 1882, Vol. vi of Altfranzòsische 
Bibliothek; H. L. D. Ward, Catalogue of Romances in the Department 
of Manuscripts in the British Museum, London, Vol. II (1893), 
309-321; M. P. Brush, Ysopet III of Paris, PMLA., xxiv, 494-546. 
For other Italian derivatives of Walter of England, see Hervieux, 
op. cit., i, 637-665; K. McKenzie, Note sulle antiche favole italiane, 
in Miscellanea di studi critici e ricerche erudite in onore di V. 
Crescini, Cividale del Friuli, 1910; M. P. Brush, The Isopo Lauren- 
ziano, Columbus, Ohio, 1899 (J. H. Diss.), pp. 31-42. 

2 There are really sixty-five fables, as the story of the Athenians 
seeing a King is entirely separate from the dependent fable of 
the Frogs desiring a King. Ward (loc. cit.) classes these as fifty- 
eight Aesopic fables and two tales, followed by two supplementary 
fables and two tales. 

3 The edition of 1483 has also a prefatory sonnet which precedes 
the prologue. 

1] 375 

376 brush [2 

zonetta, and a Canzone of eight fifteen-line stanzas with an 
envoy of eleven lines. 

The collection has come down to us in a single manuscript, 
dated 1462, and in some sixteen early printed editions 
ranging from 1479 to 1566. 4 In the main the printed 
editions agree, but together show such variations from the 
manuscript that we must suppose an older form of the collec- 
tion as the original translation. In the manuscript and in 
all of the earlier editions the Latin text 5 alternates with the 
Italian, and one is often surprised at the fidelity of the trans- 
lation when one realizes that more than once a fable of but 
ten or twelve lines has been developed into two full sonnets. 
Rarely is there any introduction of new motifs, rather the 
translator amplifies his text by repeating the essential facts 

4 Hervieux ( loc. cit. ) gives a list of these editions as follows : 
1479 at Verona, 1483 Rome (not Venice, as erroneously stated in 
my Isopo Laurenziano, p. 33, fn. 100), 1487 Brescia, 1491 (1492) 
Venice (Dr. Mackenzie has found a copy of this edition in the 
Harvard University Library), 1493 Venice, 1497 Venice, 1498 Milan, 
1502 at Venice and at Milan, 1520 Milan, 1528 Venice, 1533 Venice, 
1544 Venice, 1566 Venice. In addition to the foregoing list, we have 
references to two other editions as follows: 

a. 1494 Bologna. This edition is described in Opere della Biblio- 
grafia Bolognese che si conservano nella Bibliotheca municipale di 
Bologna, Luigi Frati, Bologna, 1889, il, col. 897, No. 7258: 7n-4. ce. 
72 n. n., car. rom., s. rich., c. segnat. A-I, Un. 37. Non registrata 
dal Hain. The colophon reads: Impresso ne lalma & inclita cita | de 
Bologna ne lo edificio da carta | delà illustrissima madon(n)a 
Zeneura | sforcia de bentiuogli: per maestro | Hercules nani sotto 
al diuo & illu | stro signore misser Giouan(n)i benti- | uoglio sforza 
di uesconti da ragona | ne lanno del nostro signore misser | Jesu 
Cristo, Mcccclxxxxiiii. a di xxii. de Febraro. Laus deo. Finis. 

ò. 1508 Venice. This edition is cited in Ilari's catalogue of the 
Bibliotheca Comunale di Siena (i, 226) as having the same colophon 
as the edition of 1502 except the date, which is 1508 a di 20 de 
Decembrio. It is also listed in Brunet, Manuel du libraire,^ i, col. 98. 

5 A comparison of this with Foerster's critical text ( loc. cit. ) 
shows little variation. 


of the story and by stressing the conclusions to be drawn 
therefrom. In the Canzone which closes the collection, he 
again repeats in epigrammatic form the lesson taught by each 
and every fable, thus giving a brief résumé of his whole work. 
In the same Canzone we find the title of the book, for in 
the last line of the first stanza the author says: Olio nomato 
Exopo Zucharino. That he did not believe in literary incog- 
nito is shown by the envoy of the poem, of which the last 
seven lines read: 

S'el nome mio alcun saper volesse, 

Digli che Azo è'1 proprio nome mio. 

Or vatene con Dio, 

E franchamente mostra la tua arte; 

E se trovi in parte 

Che del pronome mio saper si lagna, 

Risponde il Zucho da Soma Campagna. 

The basis of the accompanying edition of the fables is 
the unique manuscript preserved in the British Museum as 
Additional 10389. It is described by Ward as follows: 
" Paper; A. D. 1462. Folio; if. 54, having 30 to 34 lines to 
a page. Imperfect, a leaf being lost after f. 27. Followed 
(if. 56 b and 57 b ) by other entries in Latin verse and prose. 
With initials in blue and red, and 76 coloured drawings. 
At the foot of the first page is a shield of arms, bendy nebuly 
of 8, argent and gules. The shield is between two lozenges, 
one of them bearing the motto " Pax Aeterna ", and the other 
bearing a device which looks something like a tradesman's 
mark, together with the initials " b " and "A" (f. 3). The 
arms and motto are repeated further on, upon the trappings 
of a knight's horse (f. 54) ; and the colophon gives the name 
of the scribe as " Jhoanes benedictus aurifex," together with 
the same motto (f. 57). 6 The full text of the colophon is: 
De sorio / Jhoanes benedictus aurifex scripsit die . 15 . 

6 Ward, op. cit., li, 331. 

378 brush [4 

augusti] / 1462. i(n) co (n) trata sa(n)cti saluarij. Of this 
scribe we know nothing. 7 Fr. Donee, in a letter of February 
17, 1817, addressed to Kichard Heber, a former owner of the 
manuscript, and which has been pasted in the binding, con- 
siders that the aurifex stood for ' goldsmith ' rather than the 
surname Orefice. The drawings with which the manuscript 
is profusely illustrated are of exceptional merit, many of 
them being worthy of reproduction. In addition to the 
fables, the manuscript contains the epitaph of John Vis- 
conti, Duke of Milan, and a list of the early Doges of Venice. 

In preparing the text for publication, the abbreviations have 
been solved and marks of punctuation, capital letters, and 
accents have been introduced in accordance with modern 
usage. Changes from the original reading have been made 
only where there was evident error on the part of the scribe, 
and all such changes have been indicated by italics, while 
the manuscript reading, in each case, has been put in the 
footnotes. Owing to the exigencies of printing, the words 
Sonetus and Comentum, found before the fables and morals 
respectively, have been omitted. 

Use has been made of the editions of 1479 and 1483 to 
supply all lacunae in the manuscript and to give the more 
important variant readings. 8 The text of the printed editions 
is so unlike that of the manuscript in orthography and in the 
order of words, that it has been necessary to limit the citation 
of variants to distinctly different readings and to lines where 
the printed text serves to illuminate a particularly obscure 

7 Mentioned by Bradley, Dictionary of Miniaturists, London, Vol. I, 
1887, pp. 120-121, the reference being to this manuscript only. 

8 For the manuscript, a rotograph copy, made by the Oxford 
University Press, was used; for the first editions, a copy of the 1479 
edition made by the writer, revised and with the variants of the 
edition of 1483 inserted by Mr. P. B. Fay of the Johns Hopkins 


Incipit Liber Exopii Zucarini Editi a Zucone de Suma 

I. El me convien vestir de l'altra fronde, 

Per che l'enzegno mio troppo è ligiero, 
E seguir l'orma per si bon sentero, 
Che al mio rimar faça perfecte sponde. 
Eccoti Exopo, che qui mi responde 5 

Con chiaro volto e animo sanciero, 
E disse a me cum suo parlar maniero: 
"F dono a te le mie faule jocunde." 
I spiriti mei alor tuti fuor mossi 
Per l'alegreza quali eran dii prima 10 

Tuti occupati e d'ignorancia grossi. 
Cominciar volgio adonca dala cima 
E revestir di lui li nudi dossi, 
Tanto che redurolo tuto in rima. 
Colui che regie nel celeste regno, 15 

Sua gratia preste al mio picólo ingiegno! 

II. Chiamòmi poscia el mio doctore indrio, 

Vulgarizando me disse: "Figliolo, 
Poi ch'entrar voy nel gracioso bruolo, 
E di me rivestir il tuo dixio, 

Fa ch'el tuo ymaginar sempre sia pio, 5 

Né di superbia non salir in suolo; 
Amato ne seray per tuto il stuolo, 
E primamente avray gracia da Dio. 
Multi vi son ch'el fructo guasta atento, 
Et altri per dileto el fiore gusta, 10 

Né di niun di loro il gusto sento, 
Per che meglio si senta la lor usta. 
Voglio che sopra me faci comento 
Sì ch'el si veza la sentenza giusta." 
Comiato prexi, et el mi benedisse; 15 

El suo comento poy per me si scrisse. 

MS. I. 7 mainerò. 

Var. I. 10 qual gli fé di prima. 15 alto regno. 16 debil 

Var. II. 9 Alguno v'è; gusta. 10 E alguno. 11 nullo. 

380 BRUSH [6 

I. "Una sala depincta a una ystoria, 
Dice il maestro, più rende leticia 

Che una fata per altra faticia, 

E più s'attende a seguir sua memoria. 

Cossi questo zardin te presta gloria 5 

De vagi fiori e de fruto divicia, 

L'un saporita e l'altro per mundicia, 

Ti mostra relucente sua vitoria. 

Adoncha acogli quel che più t'agrada, 

O voy l'adorno fiore, o '1 dolce fructo, 10 

Tu sei de libertà su rita strada, 

E se trambe te piace, cogle el tuto. 

E Dio, de sua sanctissima roxada, 

Bagni il piccol parlar cotanto suto. 

Parole breve porta gran consiglio, 15 

E sécha gussa sconde bon nosiglio." 

II. Mostrando a voy el gracioso amore, 
El doctore benigno qui presente, 
L'amicicia deserta di sua mente, 

Ut juvet et prosit ecco per gran dolzore, 

Che come dice Ysodoro doctore, 5 

Per nulla forza amicicia se pente, 

Siando verace, né mai si desmente, 

Per che tra l'altre possi chiamar fiore. 

Ecco la sala pinta, ecco il zardino, 

Ecco il fiore, ecco il fruto soave, 10 

Ch'esse fuori del fior cotanto fino. 

Coglite il fiore che perfecta chiave, 

El fior lasiate stare al fantolino, 

Che lezendo gli toglie mente prave. 

Ben che l'uno per l'altro siano buoni, 15 

Per che l'alegoria meglio disponi. 

Var. I. 1 vagha historia. 3 Che quando è fatta. 7 Che un per 
sapore. 14 parlar mio tanto asciutto. 16 sica scorza. 

Var. IL 2 dottor mio. 3 Con perfetta amicicia. 4 Te dinota 
fugire ogni dolore. 8 tra le virtù se chiama il fiore. 9 gloria for 
zardino. 11 Che nasce. 12 il fruto. 13 fanciullino. 15 con for 
per. 16 meglio gli exponi. 


1. Cock and Jewel. 

I. Dice il maestro ch'el gallo raspando 
En el letame per trovar del grano, 
Meravegliòssi ch 'el glie vene a mano 
Una preciosa pietra, et el parlando 

Disse: "O preciosa cossa, in quanto bando 5 

Sei posta scuoxa in luoco si vilano! 

Se l'artifice ti fosse prozano, 

Di te traria sua vita lieto stando. 

Per me non fay, e io de te non curo; 

Più ameria una cossa men ridia 10 

Che delà fame me fesse securo." 

Cossi l'ignorante sempre picha 

Contrario de fortuna dov' è il cuoro 

De l'aspra provertà sempre l'empicha. 

Sì come il gallo sprexia tal semenza, 15 

Cossi desprexia il mato la scienza. 

II. Mostravi il gallo qui raspar letoame, 
Cioè l'uomo quando sta in mortai pecato, 
Che quando dal buon homo fi consigliato 
Dice che ama più trovar il grame, 

Cioè di pecati il doloroso strame; 5 

E cossi contra Dio sta sfigurato, 

Ay doloroso tristo sciagurato! 

Che non gli valerà può dir : " I'ò fame." 

Disprexia poi la pietra preciosa, 

Cioè la scienza, et ama il tristo pasto 10 

Delà gola crudele e dolorosa. 

Cossi l'uomo cativo, quando al tasto 

Si da cum mente vile et occiosa, 

Sì corno bestia può portar il basto. 

Ma fa che al gallo tu non assimiglie, 15 

Il bon consiglio no che sempre piglie. 

MS. II, 15-16 lacking. 

Var. I. 8 S'el te havesse uno artifice soprano. 14 ogni hor for 

Var. II. 4 gli ama più cerchar tal trame. 12 l'homo maligno. 

382 brush [8 

2. Wolf and Lamb. 

I. Partissi il lupo del prato e l'agnelo 

Per trovar l'aqua, no per un sentero, 
E zaschadun per gran sete lezero 
Corse ala ripa d'um bel fimecello. 

Beveva il lupo de sopra da quello, 5 

E disse a luy, cum malvaxio pensiero: 
"Tu me turbidi l'aqua, e per lo vero, 
Ne poteristi portar grave flagello." 
L'agnello com el vero si scuxava: 
"Vero nonne che'l fiume sia turbato, 10 

Tu mi minaci." Il lupo ancor cridava: 
"Cossi mi fé tuo padre, falso nato, 
Non fa sey mexi." E cossi il devorava, 
Colpando luy del injusto peccato. 
D'offendre al justo, il falso trova l'arte, 15 

E questi lupi regna in ogni parte. 

II. Or vedi il lupo, che senza caxone 

L'agnello divorò cum falso frodo. 
Cossi il demonio trova l'arte e'1 modo 
Di tuorce l'arme cum temptatione. 
Cossi nel mundo le false persone 5 

D'offendre il justo sempre trova il nodo, 
Né si ricorda del afito chiodo, 
Né del nostro Segnor la pasione. 
Disse San Daniel: Tu condennasti 
Sangue innocente, or torna al tuo judicio. 10 

El justo è confirmato per psalmista, 
Però vi prego voltate la vista 
Al fonte sancto, dove vi lavasti, 
Sì che tornati al sumo beneficio. 

Var. II. 4 tuorne l'alme. 


3. Rat, Frog, and Kite. 

I. Il toppo non possando far sua via 
Per Poprobrio del laco che lì giace, 
Veneli contra la rana loquace, 
Mostrando ver de lui la cera pia, 

E proferisse cum lingua polia 5 

De condurlo oltra, et a quel molto piace. 

E quela falsa di mal far sagace 

Un filo a pedi lor forte mettia. 

La rana falsa, quando fo nel mezo, 

Rupe sua fede per condurlo a morte, 10 

Unde con vene che venisse a pezo; 

Ch'el toppo, aiutandosi cum volte et storte, 

Dal nebio foron prexi doivo erezo 

Ch'ensieme sofrise amara sorte. 

Cossi perissa chi falsa il servire, 15 

E per Pingano pena soferire. 

II. Colui che may no dorme per far male, 
E per condurci al infernale hostello, 

Fa l'uomo deslíale falso e fello 

Per condenar coluy ch'è più liale. 

Quando ambiduy son in pecca mortale 5 

E copulati del suo capistrello, 

L' inganato si chiama miserello, 

Aitar si vuole ma nulla gli vale. 

Però non creder al uomo cativo 

Che facto rana tuopo no ti facia, 10 

Che Pun per l'altro male se nutricha. 

San Gieronimo dice: Chi più abraza 

Una cossa gli mancha dond'è privo, 

Ch'el non ci è huomo che vero gli dica. 

Prova Vamico novo, e poi te fida, 15 

S'egli è liai, tien quello per tua guida. 

MS. II. 15-16 lacking. 

Var. I. 2 lo obstacol. 4 facia pia. 8 al pie di quel forte ponia. 
11 ne for che. 12 II toppo aitar se voi con volte storte. 13 Ma dal; 
doudio creggio. 14 Che sostenere insieme. 16 E possa ad ingannar. 

Var. II. 7 mischinello. 9 Però fa che non credi. 11 assai mal. 
14 Che vermi huom non glie. 

384 BRUSH [10 

4. Dog and Sheep. 

I. La pegora constreta per lo cane 
Davanti il podestà dove comparse. 
Cornandogli che se debia acordarse 
O che gli renda lo promiso pane. 

Quella negando le domande vane, 5 

Il nibio, l'avoltore e'1 lupo parse, 

Et in favor dal can testificarse 

Come l'agnel promise la dimane. 

Di raxon non gli de'render a quello, 

El podestà pur vuol ch'eia il contenti, 10 

Unde conven che venda il propio vello. 

Cossi conven che sostegna tormenti, 

E del inverno l'aspero flagello, 

E fuor d'ogni pietà li fredi venti. 

Cossi per lo falsario se perisse, 15 

E dolse la pietà che ciò sofrisse. 

II. Per la temptation del inimico 
Si muove l'uomo contra la r axone, 
Talor movendo false questione 

E falso prova per alcun amico. 

Cossi la fede prexia men d'un fico 5 

Pur che spoliar possa l'altra maxone, 

E mendicando fa gir le persone, 

E grami son se gli riman un spicho. 

Non esser milvo, lupo né avoltore, 

Non esser cane a dimandar ingiusto, 10 

Non esser nel mal far ubiditore; 

Ben che pietate si doglia del justo, 

Per che un pocheto tardi il Criatore, 

Subito calla il suo pésente fusto. 

Se mai per caso fussi a dar sentenza, 15 

Mira que testimonii à tua presenza. 

MS. I. 6 inbio; IL, 12 be. 

Var. I. 2 podestate humil. 3 Qual (first word). 4 prestato 
pane. 13 il gelido flagello. 

Var. IL 9 nibio for milvo. 14 potente fusto. 


5. Dog and Shadow. 

I. Passando il cane supra per un ponte, 

Portava in bocha un gran pezo di carne, 
Pensando ben di ley sua voglia farne. 
Guardò nel aqua del chiarito fonte 
E vide l'ombra cum tropo più zonte, 5 

Che mostrava nel aqua zù più carne. 
E quel sperando aver più da manzarne 
Lasciò quella che avea di propia sponte, 
Unde cade nel aqua zù nel fondo. 
Poy drietro si zito per aver quella, 10 

La qual esser paria di mazor pondo, 
E perse la speranza vana e fella, 
E la propria rimaxe nel profondo. 
Cossi falsa speranza ne martella. 

No lassar my lo certo per l'incerto, 15 

Senno che del tuo proprio fie diserto. 

IL Ecoti il can portar la carne in bocha, 

E giù nel aqua lasiarla cadere, 
Sperando magior pezo reavere, 
Poy drieto si zito e nulla tocha. 

Cossi travien a vuy quando s'imbrocha 5 

Gli animi a questo mondo con piacere 
Togliandosi giù del divin volere, 
Al pezo di pecati ogniun s'invocha. 
Or credi tu aver parte del mondo 

E lasiato ay la divina sustanza, 10 

E'1 mondo tuto ti ritrovi in zanza. 
Adoncha lasscia la mondana usanza 
E ritornati al primo justo pondo, 
Ch'el non trabuchi la justa bilanza. 

Var. II. 10 E posseder la. 11 Tenendo quel che te retiene in 


386 BRUSH [12 

C. The Lion's Share. 

I. Per engualimente seguir la fortuna 

Fece compagnia la manza e lio ne, 
La pegora e la capra in tal casone 
Ch' el se partisse la caza comuna. 
Un cervo mosse, dunde zascaduna 5 

Di queste fiere ala promissione 
Segondo l'esser dele sue persone 
Drieto li corse e a morte il rauna. 
"Io serò herede delà prima parte, 

Disse il leone, per lo primo honore, 10 

E la secunda mi deffende Marte, 
Concedimi la terza il gram labore, 
La quarta voglio, se no eh' el se parte 
El nostro amore." E cossi fo signore. 
Però questa scriptura no consente 15 

Ch' el s'acompagne il tristo col possente. 

IL Non è fermeza in la gran segnoria, 

Né in homo richo de posanza grande, 
Né per sua vogla in grande gloria scande. 
Però sempre ti servon di boxia, 

E sempre dice : " Come io dico, fia." 5 

Cum minazee or cum parole blande, 
Beuto quello che cotal girlande 
Schiva de firgli dicto cossi sia. 
Doncha schivate le mondane zoglie, 
Ch'el mondo vi promete e no v'atende. 10 

Più cum fece il lion a soy compagni. 
Chi serve a Dio non bisogna se lagni; 
Quest'è coluy c'ogni promessa atende, 
Però zaschun di cuor faza sue voglie. 

Var I. 3 a tal stagione. 8 e denli morte bruna. 


7. Thief and Sun. 

I. Maridòsse la dona cun un ladro, 

Alegrasse la zente come sole. 
Un savio huomo mosse tal parole: 
" Il sole essendo zovene e lizadro, 
Tolse mugliere nel suo proprio quadro, 5 

Unde la terra molto se ne dolle. 
A Jupiter lamentòssi del solle: 
'Or vede, signor mio, che io mi disquadro; 
Per un sol sole son distructa e morta, 
Or duncha què farò s'un altro nasse? 10 

Come sofrir potrò pena si forta?' 
Cossi convien che gli animi s'abasse 
De dare al cativo homo lieta scorta, 
Che male ariva chi el cativo passe. 
Che non securi la raxon protesta, 15 

Qui che an mal facto e del mal far s'apresta." 

IL L'uomo cativo di mal far non cessa, 

Come fa l'onda al mar, dixe Ysaya, 
Né mala mente non à pace pia. 
Prospero qui, ma de mal far opressa, 
Coluy che sempre persevera ad essa, 5 

Despresiando la divina via, 
Per nuy conven che desprexiato sia, 
Ogni sostegno e gracia a luy dimessa. 
Non si convien dar moglier a costui, 
Per che la terra più ch'el sol scota, 10 

Né alegreza farne qui tra nuy. 
Or zaschaun lector qui faza nota 
Che quel eh' è uso a rapinar l'altruy 
Non so se possa far mente divota. 
Sì corno il nostro buon doctore insegna, 15 

Lassiate tal persona com'è diegna. 

Var. I. 6 Volse tuor moglie. 11 A tal pena soffrir son male ac- 
corta. 15 Chi non soccorre a chi ragion si presta. 16 far non resta. 

Var. II. 3 E mai la mente. 4 Prospera si, ma dal mal far è 
oppressa. 10 Dil qua! la mala vita se dinota. 

388 brush [14 

8. Wolf and Ckane. 

I. Manzando il lupo la carne per freza, 

Intrògli un osso nela streta gola. 
Apena proferando la parola, 
Per retrovar un medico s'adrieza, 

Prometendogli doni d'alegreza 5 

Come una voce di pietate mola. 
La grua in questo com esso s'anola 
E l'osso gli cavò cum sua destreza. 
La sua proferta la grua domanda. 
Rispoxe il lupo: "Per me sei secura 10 

Delà tua vita che perigolava. 
Non possemo cum la mia dentadura 
Tagiarti il collo? Doncha non ti grava 
A cognoser da mi la via fatura." 
Al perfido servir perder si trova, 15 

Che sempre scognosente esser si prova. 

IL Or vede il lupo aver in gola l'osso 

Et esser liberato per la gruda, 
Et ogni sua faticha aver perduda, 
Et oltra ciò cridalgli il lupo adosso 
Come tenuta la gruda gli fosso 5 

Quasi che a vita l'avesse tenuda. 
Or quivi vostra fede ti saluda, 
< <^he dal servire may non sie remosso; 

Se l'uomo rio el servixio no agrada, 
Lasial portare l'animo protervo, 10 

Che Dio a te farà larga l'entrada. 
Dice San Paulo: Io me feci servo 
Libero siando per trovar la preda, 
La dove più guadagno mi riservo. 
Se tu perdi el servir del uomo rio, 15 

Troppo mazor è la gracia de Dio. 

Var. I. 6 Con; vola for mola. 7 La grua tal voce odendo, laquai 
sola. 9 La grua poi la promessa. 13 Troncharti. 14 via secura. 
15-16 Al perfido servir noce e non giova, E chi gli serve pocha 
gratia trova. 

Var. II. 5-6 Come se con ragione fosse mosso, E come quella gli 
fosse tenuda. 9 Se a l'homo. 13 trovar la strada. 


9. Two Bitches. 

1. Una cagnola qual era de parte 

Cum sue losenge l'altra cagna prega, 
E cum dolce parole si la prega 
Che del suo proprio tecto se departe. 
La pregna stete e l'altra via se parte, 5 

Dal prego facta mata, lorda e cega, 
E mendicando soa vita desprega 
Tanto ch'en parturi quel altra parte. 
Domanda il tecto suo la bona cagna, 
L'altra le 'rechie chiude e si la cassa, 10 

E si di minazarla non sparagna. 
E per lo figiolo suo convien che taza 
Per che la madre sta più ferma e stagna, 
Unde si parte e l'altra ce rimaxa. 
Non è fermeza in le dolce parole, 15 

Che mal e danno d'esse sevir sole. 

II. Vedi che per losinghe sta di fuore 

La bona cagna, scaciata dil tecto, 
L'altra gli latra col figlio a dispeto, 
E partir si conven cum bruti honori. 
Però convene che gli humani cuori 5 

Si guardi per luxenge aver diffeto, 
E non lasciare il suo continuo leto 
Di penitenza per alcun furore. 
Cossi giamay non ti lasciar scaciare 
Al enemico fuor de bona fede 10 

Cum sue loxenge sicome suol fare, 
Sta pur constante a quel che fermo sede 
Che qual si lacia al inimico uçelare, 
A caxa non ritorna quando crede; 
Or sta constante e troveray mercede. 15 

Var. I. 6 fatta stolta e ciegha. 10 la scaccia. 14 E quella se 
ne andò come una paccia. 16 seguir. 

Var. II. 10 Da lo. 15-16 Al lusenghier non dare troppo fede, 
Solo a Jesu se voi trovar mercede. 

390 . BRUSH [16 

10. Man and Ungrateful Serpent. 

I. La neve sbianchezando per la terra 
Come gran fredo congelando l'aque, 

Un gelato serpente molto piaque 

Al pover homo, che nel grenbio il serra, 

Ad un gran fuocho scaldarlo non erra. 5 

E come fo scaldato, d'esso naque 

Un perfido venim, dove despiaque 

Al poverel veder guastar sua serra; 

Unde ghe disse: "Va senza ritorno!" 

E quello obprobrio non vuol ch'el discaza, 10 

Movendo crudel si voli dintorno 

E drito ver di lui drizò sua faza, 

Voglando dar a quel pessimo zorno, 

Venim zitando luy strenze et abraza. 

Sempre il mal huomo rende mal per iene, 15 

Per pietà ingano, e per lo fructo pene. 

II. Tu vedi l'uomo portar il serpente, 
E la neve la terra sbianchezando, 

Per che ghiaziato si stava tremando 
A casa s'il portò subitamente. 

Or el vidi zitar venim dolente, 5 

La casa dil bon huomo atoxicando, 
Né partir non si vuol per suo comando. 
Cossi ti fa l'inimico veramente, 
Tu vidi il mondo biancho, chiaro e bello, 
Vedi il serpente, zioè mortai pecato, 10 

< Nel cuori il porti e li si face hostello. 

Quando da luy vogli fir liberato, 
E luy t'abraza, tristo miserello, 
Né si ligieramente vien scaciato. 
Però non nutricar li peccati, 
Sì che da loro siamo liberati. 

MS. 15 mal per male. 

Var. I. 10 E quel serpente non voi lo discacia. 11 sibili. 15 
bene {last word) . 

Var. II. 13 mischinello. 14 lievemente. 


11. Boar and Ass. 

I. Coon mato riso el misero asinelio 
Tastò il porcho eengiaro e si se misse 
Enver del forte quel cativo ardisse 
Dir: "Dio ti salvi, caro mio fratello." 

Squasuò el capo il porcho e za per elio 5 

Non si curio, ma forte superbisse 

E pocho stando ver de luy si disse: 

"Desprexia la vii escha il dente bello. 

Non so come se tegna mia fereza 

Che non ti squarci tuta la tua pelle, 10 

Ma sicuro ti fa la tua mateza." 

Però mato è coluy qual cum novelle 

Va simulando e no porta chiareza 

Davanti a zintil homo suoe loquelle. 

Non si fa al mato temptar il poeta, 15 

Ne zir trepando a luy cum voglia lieta. 

II. L'uomo ch'à troppo zanze e troppo beffe 
E si dileta d'ucelare altruy, 

Costui non è cognoscente de luy 

Né s'avede che zò no monta un effe. 

L'uomo discreto che non vuol caleffe 5 

E che vorebe viver cum nuy, 

Più no possando minaza coluy 

Che se più zanza di menar le zeffe. 

Parola recresievola fa injuria, 

Dice qui Dionixio nil suo testo, 10 

Corumpando costumi mal auguria. 

Però questo ti dico e ti protesto 

Che tu ti guardi da commover a furia 

Coluy che tuto regie a fermo sexto. 

Adoncha nota questo: 15 

"Giocha quanto ti piace come fanti, 

Dic'el proverbio, e lascia star i sancti." 

Var. I. 5-6 Conquassò il capo il porcho, ne per elio Pur si croio. 
Var. II. 4 tutto ciò. 6 viver ben fra noi. 10 chiaro testo. 15 
Tu dunque. 

392 brush [18 

12. Town Mouse and Country Mouse. 

I. Con chiaro volto il topo dala villa 

Invitò secho il citadino rato, 
Col picol mensa ma no men difato 
Dal nobel fronte lor cibi sintilla. 

El citadino al rustico se humilia 5 

E dise: "Fratel mio, quest' altro trato 
Convien che vegni mecho dove ò fato 
La vita mia, et ancor lì tranquilla." 
Menòlo nel celato dove carne 

Prexe manzare. Intanto il canevaro 10 

Zonse, donde zaschun prexe a scampare. 
Il rustico parlò cum gusto amaro: 
"Nanci voglio la fava rosegare, 
Che di tal pena senpre dubitare." 
La povertade è richa se vien lieta; 15 

Dove timenza alberga, non çè meta. 

IL Monstrati anchora il sorzeto vilano 

Farsi cortexe et invitar comesso, 
Con nobel fronte e con bel dir apresso, 
Per condur ala villa il topo urbano; 
I soy cibi lucean dal viso humano. 5 

El citadino rato sieco adesso 
El rustico menò donde dicesso 
Fu per la tema del sconder sótano. 
Cossi il justo invita il peccatore, 
Com esso luy e mostragli la fede, 10 

Per trarlo fuore da mortai errore. 
Possa l'injusto cui nemico lede, 
Invita il justo e mostragli il terrore, 
Onde si scampa e pi cum luy non sede. 
Meglio è goder il pocho ch'il ben cerno, 15 

Che la richeza spetando l'inferno. 

Var. I. 8 che anchor è asai tranquilla. 14 Che star in cotal 
pena, fratel caro. 

Var. II. 2 e mandar un suo messo. 5 Da gli soi cibi e da. 


13. Eagle and Fox. 

I. L'aquila per dar cibo a lor figlioli 
Portò nel nido i figli delà volpe. 
Quella studendo par che si dispolpi, 
Pregando ley come anguosioxi duoli: 

"Aquila che pietoxa eser tu suoli, 5 

Dey! rendi a me quelle mie propie polpe, 

Che sul arbaro tieni senza colpe. 

Pregoti ch'ai mio prego tu ti muli." 

L'aquilla nega la giusta dimanda, 

Unde la volpe l'alboro cerconda 10 

Di legna e frasee, tuto nel girlanda. 

Poy caco fuoco in çascaduna sponda, 

E tanto fumme agli aquiloti manda 

Che i figli scosse, dove fu jocunda. 

Non voglia ofendre il mazor al menore, 15 

Che ben può ofendre il minor al mazore. 

II. L'aquila tolse ala volpe lor figli 
E portòsegli suxo nel suo nido. 

La volpe udendo di figlioli il strido 

Convien che a rescatar li si sotigli. 

L'alboro cerconda de vimine e stigli 5 

E fuoco gli caco senza disfido. 

L'aquila per schivar di figli el crido 

I suoy gli resse con cruciati pigli. 

Eccoti Idio! per nuy deliberami 

Mandò il figliolo al aquila superba, 10 

A quel nemico che volea disfami. 

Eccoti il fumme, ecco la pena acerba 

Che sostene l'inferno a relasiarni, 

No sperando Camay gustar tal erba. 

Cristo portò la pena di peccati 15 

Nostri, donde siamo liberati. 

MS. II. 9 deliberami. 
Var. 7. 1 a soi. 3 stridendo. 8 amoli. 

Var. II. 8 con gli proprii artigli. 11 Cioè for A. 15-16 portò per 
gli nostri peccati Morte crudel per cui siam. 

394: brush [20 

14. Eagle and Tortoise. 

I. L'aquila mossa delà vaga cima 

Prese nel prato la bissa squara, 
E quella cum la concha se repara, 
Che dal becho aquilin non se delima. 
E la cornice cum sagace lima 5 

L'aquila castigando disse: "Empara 
A spandre il cibo che da te s'apara 
Quale nutriente a far lucida pima, 
S'ela cadesse di somo altitudine, 

Ruperiase la concha che la serra, 10 

Sì che manzar poresti la testudene." 
L'aquila il fé, donde sopra la terra 
Sparse tuta quela dulcitudine, 
Qual subito per se la grola aferra. 
La savia lingua e falsa molto offende, 15 

Ch'el forte per inzegno liga e prende. 

IL Se tu ben guardi qui, l'aquila prexe 

Una bissa squara nel bel prato, 
E si coperta tien per ogni lato 
Che dal becho aquilim si fa difexe. 
Ancora vedi le false contexe 5 

Che la grola gli mostra per suo grato, 
Per aver quello che s'a ymaginato, 
Gli mostra il modo a portarla suspexe. 
Cossi stimando il buon in penetença, 
Gli corre subito el pecato adosso, 10 

Quel si diffende per la soferença. 
Dic'el dimonio: "Convien che comosso 
Fia costui via dala ubidiença, 
E da più grave temptation percosso." 
Com'el se parte da servir a Dio, 15 

Cossi s'el porta l'enemico rio. 

Var. I. 7 Spargier quel cibo. 15 la lingua astuta. 

Var. II. 9 stando for stimando. 10 va for corre. 12 remosso. 


15. Fox and Crow. 

I. Trovo nel libro del maestro mio 

Che la volpe afamata pasturando 
Un corvo vide, che un caxo portando 
In becho andava. Donde gli andò drio, 
E quela a luy col suo parlar pio: 5 

"Tu che sul arbor ti vay diportando, 
Cotanto adorno e bello e vagezando, 
E sopra ogni altro uzello biancho e polio, 
Tu mi somigli al cigno di parazo. 
Se del tuo canto sol fosse contenta, 10 

Certo tu vinci tuti d'avantazo." 
El mato a grolezar si spromenta, 
Unde di becho gli cade il formazo; 
La volpe il prexe, donde il corvo stenta. 
La vanagloria ti mostra dolceza 15 

Che vergogna ti rende e gran tristeza. 

IL Quando la volpe pasturando andava, 

Sul alboro si stava il corvo etaxo, 
E vide il corvo che portava il caxo. 
Che cantasse luy amaistrava, 

E quella tuta volta il loxengava 5 

Per poner il formazo nel suo vaxo. 
Coluy credendo al judayco baxo, 
A cantar prexe e'1 formaio lasciava. 
Cossi ti fa il doloroxo baxo mondo 
Che ti porze richeza e tu la porti, 10 

E non ricorda di pecati il pondo. 
I quali sempre guarda e stan acorti 
A condurti di povertate al fondo. 
Cossi dal enimico siamo scorti, 

Che sempre ci conforta a falsi canti 15 

Per condur l'anima a doloroxi pianti. 

MS. II. As partially indicated by letters in the margin, the manu- 
script order is involved, the lines running 1, 2, 4, 7, 3, 5, 6, 9, 8, 
11, 10. The order followed is that of the 1479 edition. 

Var. I. 12 1497 a gloriar si se exprimenta; 1483 agrolizar. 

Var. II 2 corvo adaso. 4 Per che di bel cantar lo amaistrava. 
9 fa sto dolloroso mondo. 16 Per menar. 

396 brush [22 

16. Old Lion Sick. 

I. Per la vechieza il posente lione 
Indormentòsi suoi membri possenti, 
E per lo fredo persse i sentimenti, 
Né se può mover per nulla raxone. 

Unde il ciengiaro, per vechia questione, 5 

Una gran piaga gli fé cum sui denti, 

Et anche il toro cum corni ponzenti 

Luy perforò per ambeduy galoni. 

Rietro costoro il misero asinelio, 

Zetando calci cum fera tempesta, 10 

Nel fronte del lion fece sagiello. 

Unde el lion come occupata testa 

Disse: "Multi ò scampati da flagiello 

Che nela mia misera mi molesta." 

Tema quel caso quel che no à amico, 15 

Che pochi ai'd'à colui ch'è mendico. 

II. Quando meglio ti segue la fortuna 
E che più fermo sula rota sedi, 

Si com'el mare subito tu cedi, 

Poy riman bassa d'aqua tua laguna. 

Tulio non solo la vista fa bruna, 5 

Fortuna e chi la segue cossi vedi, 

Tu medesimo non senti se ti ledi, 

Né se tuo amico fia persona alguna. 

Vien il dimonio e forate le coste 

Cun le corne per lo mortai pecato, 10 

E justicia ti squarza l'altra poste. 

De pecati nel fronte sugielato 

Seray; non ti vara dire: "Za hoste 

Fui, e servi, ed or sum flagielato." 

Che tu servivi al mondo miserello, 15 

Però di calci ti da l'asinelio. 

Var. I. 16 Che puocho ad j uto ha quel che vien mendico. 

Var.II. After line 16 are two lines of Latin translated: Non è 
senza gran colpa ad impazarte De quel che non te tocha e n'è tua 


17. Ass and Lap-dog. 

I. E come alegreza un cucolin zentile 

Vagò trepando com el suo signore, 
Mostravagli il signor perfecto amore, 
Di dolci cibi e vivande sotile. 

Questo vezando l'iaseneto vile. 5 

Disse: "Per serici costui sie mazore 
Di me, chi me fatico cum dolore; 
Forsi s'io zioclio, granderò mio stile." 
E rito si levò forte ragiando, 

I pedi alçadi suie spalle posse 10 

Al suo signor, che se levò cridando. 
Unde i famigli sentando tal cosse 
Cum grave maze luy zi va batando, 
Facendo luy sentir pene dogliose. 

A forzar la natura non è licito, 15 

E spiace il mato nel piacer solicito. 

II. Giugava col signore il cuzolino, 

E l'asino si gli vuol simigliare, 
E col signore se mise a trepare, 
Credendosi più bel d'um annerino. 
I fanti quando vide tal distino 5 

L'asino forte prexe a bastonare, 
E cum gran bote via da luy scaciare, 
E cossi gli respoxe a suo latino. 
Cossi è l'uomo che vive in virtute 
E serve a Dio e cum solaza, 10 

Che com'el cuzolim gli da salute. 
Eccot'il vicio ch'el buon homo abraza, 
Cioè l'asino cum voce disolute, 
E quel atento da se il cride scaza, 
Poy di virtute viene i fidel servi 15 

Cal vicio rompe ossa, polpe e nervi. 

MS.I. 13 mze. 

Var. I. 1 cagnolin. 6 scherci. 13 macie. 

Var. II. 1 cagnolino. 3 se puose. 5 Gli servi. 10 con buona 
efficacia. 11 al cagnolin. 

398 brush [24 

18. Lion and Mouse. 

I. La freda silva un zorno loxengava 
El sopito lion che dentro jace, 
Intanto zonse un ratolin sagace, 
Ch'entorno del lion prompto zugava. 

El lion il prese cum sua brancha prava, 5 

E'l toppo disse : " O possanza tenace, 

Misericordia ti domando e pace." 

Dal prego mosso, il lion luy lassava 

E disse: "Al vincitore è tanta gloria 

Quant'è la possa di quel che perdente, 10 

Sì che vincer costuy no m'è memoria." 

Cade nel rete quel lion posente, 

Possa dal topo ehi la victoria, 

Ch'el fune roxego col fero dente. 

Tu chey possente sempre fui al picólo, 15 

Che scanpar ti poria de gran pericolo. 

II. Qui vi figura il doctor molto bene 
Che la gloria del vincitore è tanta 
Quanto la possa del vinto s'amanta, 
Ch'ai più possente vincer si convene. 

Ma quando vince un tristo, questo vene 5 

Che vile ystoria poy di luy si canta. 

Al pizol fa gracia larga e spanta, 

Per che giovar ti può nele tue pene. 

Per servir no si perde, anci s'aquista, 

Dice Ysaya sovente al enfermo. 10 

Retien la furia tuta, dic'el psalmista, 

Da carità procede, e lì sta fermo, 

El gracioso dono a Dio fa vista, 

E contra l'inimico gli fa scermo. 

Però zaschun s'alista 15 

Di sovenir i tristi povereti, 

E Idio ve guardará da mal deffecti. 

MS. II. Has lines 12 and 13 ¿w reverse order, not according to 
the metrical scheme. 

Var. II. 3 s'avanta. 7 larga e sancta. 15 insista. 


19. Young Kite Sick. 

I. El nebio infermo pregava la madre 

Che Dio pregasse cuz benigno effecto, 
Che liberasse luy dal crudel leto, 
Offerendo per luy done liçadre. 

La madre a luy : " Col tuo vicio disquadre 5 

L'animo a Dio, per tuo grave diffeto, 
Usando la rapina per dileto 
Cum falsi inzigni e cum parole ladre, 
Possa che turbato ay li nostri dei, 
Voglion egli che tu porti la pena 10 

Del pecato dove tu degno sey. 
Prima che tu cadesti in tal catena 
Pensar dovevi nelli acessi rey, 
Che come umilità cossi ti mena." 
Però chi fa sua vita nei pecati, 15 

Non abia fede de star nei beati. 

IL Fin che l'uomo sta fermo in sua bontade, 

Ardito, forte, giovene, possente, 
El non si pensa may nela sua mente 
Che gli possa venire adversitade. 

Dixpresia Dio e la sua maiestade, 5 

Uxando ingani e robando la zente, 
E sempre nel mal far è soferente, 
Fina che Dio gli tuoi prosperitade. 
Possa si torna a sancta madre chiexia, 
Pregando ley che de tanti diffeti 10 

El cavi, e contra Dio faza difexa. 
E quela dice: "Per gli tuoy dispeti, 
Dio vuol che vadi rito ala distexa, 
Dove si purga i mondani dileti." 
Però fin che tu vivi in questo mondo, 15 

Fa che salvar ti possi dal profundo. 

MS. I. 13 nlli. 

Var.I. 2 con benigno. 4 cose ligiadre. 13 excessi. 14 Humilità 
non è che hora ti mena. 

400 brush [26 

20. Swallow and Birds. 

I. La terra nudrigando la somenza 

Del lino per che lino dinasesse, 
La rondinella a consiglio si messe 
Cum gli altri ucelli, alegando sentenza: 
"Se a questo non faciamo provi denza, 5 

Morte siamo se quel lino cresce." 
Ucel non fo che non si ne ridesse, 
Isprexiando sua chiara eloquenza. 
El lino cressce e fa l'erbeta bella, 

La rondinella ancor consiglia queli 10 

Contra el pericolo, e lor ridem de quella. 
Per lo qual cossa se partì da elgli, 
A l'uomo s'acordò cum sua loquella, 
Unde nel rete cade i altri uceli. 

Chi lassa il buon consiglio per lo rio, 15 

Cade nel rete quant'è più scaltrio. 

IL Se alguno cum buon modo a te vera, 

Entendi bene e pensati ben su, 
Se il suo consiglio ti rende salu, 
Ancora pensa che seguir porrà. 

Posa faray quel che te ne parrà, 5 

Né disprexiar il buon consiglio tu, 
Velox ad audiendum sie tu più. 
Jacobo dice: El parlar tarderà. 
E se per caso tu consigliti, 

E tu cognosi il perigol che c'è, 10 

E creduto non fia come tu di, 
Senza voglierli dir più, cossi fé, 
Fati rondena e tuote via de lì, 
E digli "Mal volete!" E cossi ste. 
Prendi'l consiglio de servir a De, 15 

E non curar del mondo iniquo e re. 

Vari. 11 Contra il suo male. 

Var. IL 7 sie ogn' hor. 14 E così habie. 


2 la. Citizens of Athens. 

I. Atteiie cività chiexe signore 
Per aver de justicia nove seze, 

E la sua libertà propria dileze, 

Credondosi per questo fir mazore. 

Ecco multiplicar il suo dolore, 5 

E rinovar statuti e nove leze, 

Poner il giovo nele humane greze, 

E qual potea schivar senza rimore. 

El signor cominzò statuti novi 

Dilacerando qui chi era colpevoli, 10 

E tuto'l primo stato par che rimovi. 

I citadini, qual eram uxevoli, 

Di far sua voglia e vincer le lor prove, 

Convien che stea sozeti e raxonevoli. 

Exopo vide la terra dolente, 15 

E muove per exempio lo dir seguente. 

II. O cività dolente! o falso hostello! 
O di malicia pregna in ogni calle, 
Piena di tradimenti in monti e valle, 
Che mo ti segnoreza Lucibello! 

O mondo injusto ! mondo topinello ! 5 

Dio te fe f rancho, e volte gli ai le spalle ! 

Non vede tu ch'el domonio t'arsalle, 

Se Dio non pensa remedio novello? 

Atennea chenne prima fusti francha, 

E volisti tirarti a tiranía, 10 

Che mutando costumi ti fa stancha, 

O vuy che disiderate signoria, 

Pensateve quando sedete in bancha 

Que risposta può aver l'anbasaria, 

La verzene Maria 15 

Faza prego al suo figlio, se gli piace, 

Che tra nuy mande sua perfecta pace. 

Far./. 8 II che potea schiffar senza dolore. 11 E tuto quel stado 
par che rinovi. 

Var. II. 5 injusto, tristo e tapinello. 7 non porgie. 16 figliol 
benigno. After the fable is a Latin couplet headed Seneca, trans- 
lated: Justicia ferma la sua signoria, Se con dementia temperata 


402 brush [28 

21b. Frogs Desiring King. 

I. Supplicòsse le rane al sumo Jove, 
Che gli desse segnor, che non n'avea, 
E luy del vano prego se ridea, 

Ma pur si mosse ale domande nove. 

Un ligno grande fa che d'alto piove, 5 

E nel laco percosse, unde façea 

Le rane tute. Ma quando vedea 

El suo signore che niente si muove, 

A Jupiter tornò subitamente. 

El quai, comosso subito per ira, 10 

Mandògli un ydro, perfido serpente. 

Coluy le ucide, coluy a se le tira, 

Unde mercè dimanda humelmente 

A Jupiter, ch'el mondo volze e zira. 

Sia lieto quelo c'à'l debito suo; 15 

Non esser d'altri, se poy esser tuo. 

II. Vedi le rane supplicar a Dio 
Che non gli lasse star senza segnore, 
E luy ridendo de cotal errore 
Mandògli un travo che sta quieto e pio. 

Ben che temesse del cadel che fio, 5 

Ancor tornò a dimandar priore. 

Idio comosso ad ira cum furore, 

Un serpe gli mandò, mortai e rio. 

Prima concesse Dio la libertade, 

E poy, vegiando nuy pigliar ria parte, 10 

Mandò il figliolo pien di humilitade, 

E nuy segundo pur in pezo l'arte, 

Mandò il demonio, pien de crudelitade, 

Che nuy devora e liga cum suo sarte. 


Quando serrati sciamo nele rede. 
Var. /. 6 E nel luoco percosse ove stasea. 


22. Doves, Kite and Hawk. 

I. Dice il maestro che una grande guerra 
Era tra'l nebio e le colunbe bianche, 

Et eram per l'asedio tanto stanche 

Che quasi per padura si soterra. 

E per suo scampo al sparavier s'aferra, 5 

Per che di capitaneo stava manche. 

Tenendosi per luy libere e franche, 

Libero albitrio gli dona e diserra. 

Mangiava il sparaver i lor pizoni, 

Un de le madre querondi lor nati, 10 

Dispersi fuori per le lo*- maxoni, 

Tra lor dicendo: "Melius bella pati 

Era che morir senza questioni, 

Che più siamo dal re dampnizati." 

Se tu fay cossa alguna, gurda'l fine 15 

A ciò ch'en le più grave non ruyne. 

II. Faceano guerra il nibio e le columbe, 
Cossi cum povertà faciamo nuy, 

E per paura degli morsi suoy 

Al sparavier se diamo cum le fombe. 

Ciò al pecato per schivar lor gronbe, 5 

Corre il peccato e'1 dimoino cum luy 

De l'alme nostre, lasiandoci nuy, 

Divorando le vano a false trombe. 

Per la roba vogliamo perder l'alme, 

Robando, rapinando, e dando a usura, 10 

Né Dio curamo, né sue sante psalme, 

E quando Idio a zò trovava mensura, 

Mercè queriamo, batendo le palme, 

Ma no possiamo render la pastura. 

L'enjuria de Dio e'1 mal tolesto 15 

Mostra che fazi al suo voler aspeto. 

Var. II. 4 frombe. 5 Cioè. 8 Devorando le va con. 16 Voi che 
ne aspetti la vendetta presto. 

404 brush [30 

23. Dog and Thief. 

I. Una note per andar a furare 
Si mosse un ladro, dond'el fero cane 
Forte latrava, e quel gli porse un pane. 
El cane alora cominciò a parlare: 

"Qel cibo fello che me voy donare 5 

Vuol ch'io consenti le tue voglie vane, 

Le quale da mia mente son lontane, 

Per che dal cibo mio mi ere scaciare. 

Se non ti parti tosto, il can parlava, 

Col mio latrar ti farò manifesto 10 

Dal furto che far vuol tua mente prava." 

E cossi il cane valoroso e presto 

Il ladro com el crido discazava, 

Faciando el gusto suo puro e modesto. 

Gurda quel che recevi e quel che day, 15 

E tu proprio glioton chastigheray. 

II. El ladro per voler cometer male, 
El cane dolcemente si loxinga 

Che tacer debia e de dormir s'infinga. 

Un pan gli porse, e'1 can disse : " Che vale 

I ladrón ici toy mostrar cotale, 5 

Che vuol che dal mio cibo mi ristrenga? 

Or tosto parti, o daròti la stringa, 

E per lo mio latrar colpo mortale." 

Cossi el enemico ti da tentacione, 

Per traiti fuor a del divino amore, 10 

E che tu segui lor operacione. 

Or doucha servi Dio, nostro Signore, 

E come psalmi e buone oracione 

Da te discacia il falso proditore. 

E si liale al tuo mondan signore mazore, 15 

Che per la lialtà se aquista honore. 

MS. IL 16 lacking. 

Var.I. 8 mi voi. 16 gioton. 

Var. II. 6 da questo cibo. 12 siegui Dio. 


24. Wolf and Sow. 

I. Parlava il lupo ad una porcha pregna: 

"Comadre mia, in questa vostro parte 
Mi proferiscilo de volerte aitarte, 
E del tuo grezo aver cura benegna." 
La porcha ver dil lupo si disdegna, 5 

E disse: "A me non bixogna tua arte, 
Ne il corpo mio. Lascia digno arte 
De nutrir quiglie che dentro vi regna. 
Or sta lontano a ciò che più secura 
Parturir possa la mia vita cheta, 10 

Che di tuo aito mia parte non cura." 
Colluy se parte e quela stete lieta. 
Per gli tuo figli comanda natura 
Che tu temi i parenti senza meta. 
Non creder tuto a tuti in ogni pacto, 15 

Chi matamente crede è tenuto mato. 

IL S'el vien alcun di cuy tu non ti fidi, 

Mostrandosi d'aitarte al tuo bixogno, 
Digli : "Amico mio, el non fa sogno 
Per questa volta che tu te convidi." 
Simelmente cum la porcha vidi 5 

Verso dil lupo ridrizar el grogno, 
Che sti lontano anchor gli da ranpogno, 
Che più sicura possa far suo cridi. 
Cossi coluy che sta in mortai pecato, 
Se'l vene a te per voler consigliarti, 10 

Quanto più tosto poy, dallo commiato, 
Ch'el suo consiglio sempre è per disfarti 
E tuorti dal amor de Dio beato. 
Or guarda ben de lasciarti alazato. 
Chi crede tutto ciò che l'ode dire, 15 

Vergogna e danno gli convien seguire. 

MS.I. 7 co marked for omission before mio. 
77. 15-16 lacking. 

Var. I. 7 Né al corpo mio. 8 quelli. 

Var.II. 3 mi par un sogno. 5 qual for cum. 11 dagli combiato. 
14 ben che non lassi allaciarti. 

406 brush [32 

25. Mountain in Travail. 

I. Crescie la terra corno un gran tumore, 
E come un aspro son quel tumor gieme, 
Raunòssi la zente tuti insieme 
Temandosi di tanto rimore; 

Ad arme corse cum grave furore 5 

Come color ch'el forte caso tieme. 

Ecco la terra dessa un topo preme, 

E ritornò nel eser suo priore. 

Tornò quela paura in alegreza, 

Vegiando sì gran facto far sì puocho, 10 

Che si mostrava di tamanta aspreza. 

Così rimaxe quela giente in giocho, 

Aliviate da quela fereza, 

Che dimostrava uscir di cotal luocho, 

Sovente men fa colui che pù crida, 15 

E pizol caso gran timenza guida. 

II. Come la terra vene al tumor grande, 
Cossi vien l'uomo grande in questo mondo, 
Ogni or più eresse e fassi più facondo, 
E'1 nome suo per tuto'l mondo spande. 

Per tema i citadini le arme prende, 5 

Cioè di misiricordia el justo pondo. 

Eccoti el tristo cader giù nel fondo, 

Disgonfiarsi, né pi timenza stando. 

Homo che fay questo mondo tristo, 

Sgonfiati di superbia e de pecati ! 10 

Ne ti ricorda de servir a Cristo, 

Da te gli offexi reman liberati, 

Quando tu schiopi de pecati misto, 

E per mal fare cadi tra damnati, 

Quanto hay fato è men d'un ratolino, 15 

Et ay perduto il summo amor divino. 

Var. I. 11 cotanto asprezza. 
Var. II. 8 né più temenza scande. 

33] Esopo zuccAïtiNO 407 

26. Lamb and Goat Mother. 

I. Zugando cum le capre el bi ancho agnello, 

Vene lì il lupo cum dolce parole, 
E disse: "Figliol mio che tetar sole 
El dolce lacte gracioso e bello, 

Come poy sofrire in tanto fello 5 

E putrido sentir di capre molle. 
La madre tua, ch'è qui, di te si duolle, 
Or vien tosto da ley dulci fratello." 
Disse l'agnello: "La capra mi presta 
Come mia madre dolcissimo lacte, 10 

E cossi mi nutrisse e mi modesta, 
Sì che le voglie mie nanci son fate 
Con le capre de far mia vita honesta, 
Che contentar la gola che te bate." 
Non è cossa che avanci il buon consiglio, 15 

Che per lo rio discende gran periglio. 

IL Stiando l'agnello nel barco gregie, 

Cioè nel gregio di sancti pastori, 
Goldando l'uomo nei beati cori. 
Eccoti il lupo cum parole sbiegie, 
L'enimico ch'el barbato diliegie, 5 

Per farti perder cossi duolci fiori. 
Mostrandoti del mondo i vani honori, 
A se ti chiama nele triste segie. 
Ecco tua madre, ecco la ria speloncha, 
Ecco il buon lacte, eccoti il fuocho eterno 10 

Ch'el demonio ti vuol porgier. Adoncha 
Segui l'agnello e fuzeray l'inferno. 
Nela tua mente da Dio non si troncha, 
E cossi goderay nel ben superno. 

Var. IL 1 nel barbato greggie. 4 parole spreggie. 

408 brush [34 

27. Old Dog and Master. 

I. El cane armato di forte natura, 

Lizero, forte, zovene e possente, 
Dal suo signore amato fortemente, 
Ulcidea molte fere ala verdura. 

Secondo che ci reze la ventura, 5 

Vecliio diventa, donde perse i denti. 
Un giorno prexe un lepore corrente, 
Quel disarmato lasciò la pastura. 
La furia dil signore bate il cane, 

E luy rispoxe: "Fin ch'ebi l'etate 10 

Fuorum ver me le fere tute vane." 
Ciascadum è di tanta facultade 
Quante le done ch'el fa cum sue mane, 
Né dura amor senza prosperitade. 
Mal serve quel che serve l'uomo rio, 15 

Che perdonar non sa l'iniquo al pio. 

II. El mondo è tanto al vicio sotomesso 

Che non cognosce del bem la radice. 
Boecio dice del stato felice: 
Vuy mi giettasti però ch'è comesso, 
Stabilita non era al grado opresso. 5 

Cossi mi feza l'amico infelice. 
Non ti meter il giovo, Paulo dice, 
Con gli infidelli, perchè fie sopresso. 
Chi chom el cativo homo si nutrica, 
Dice Grigolo, convien che cativa 10 

Sua vita facia, e com essa inimica. 
Quando dal cane fo la forza priva, 
Il suo signore gli tolse la spica; 
Al cativo servir cossi s'ariva. 

Doncha zaschadun che viva 15 

Se guardi da servir l'enimico, 
Per ch'el gli toile delà gloria il spico. 

MS. II. 2 cognsce. 

Var. II. 4 mi privasti. 7 te poner al giovo. 


28. Hares and Frogs. 

I. Per lo gran vento la selva risona, 
Le leproselle tute s'enfuga. 

Gionte al palude quasi se mittia 

Sottopozarsi, ma qui si consona 

Che riguardando non vide persona, 5 

Salvo che rane che se somergia, 

Per la gran tema che di quelle avia, 

Unde gli ritornò speranza bona. 

Disse una d'esse: "Licito è sperare 

Che nuy non sciamo ala timenza sole, 10 

Le rane vezo per nuy dubitare." 

La speranza è salute d'ogni prole, 

E la timenza vicio da scaciare 

A chi teme vergogna e vertù vole. 

Però spera chi teme ch'el si vede 15 

Di gran periglio tornar a mercede. 

II. Quando fortuna sona, zascum fuze, 
E per gran tema quando più si sconde, 
Ma quando vede altruy in maior unde, 
Confortasi e tanto non si struze. 

Le leproselle cui timenza fruze 5 

Vide rane timere per le fronde, 

E tropo più di lor di tema sconde, 

Unde per temma più no si distruze. 

Cossi timendo la mortai sentenza, 

Per vergogna de dir nostri deffecti, 10 

Nuy si scondiamo dala penitenza, 

Ma poy vegiando i tiribili effecti, 

Sotopozarsi nela obidienza, 

Alor dala paura siamo necti. 

Non ti temer di tornarte a Dio, 15 

Con più l'uomo à pecati, egli è più pio. 

Var. I. 3 se ponia. 

Var. IL 2 quanto pò se asconde. 6 le rane fugir. 7 de lor eran 
joconde. 12 li horribili effetti. 

410 BRUSH [36 

29. Wolf and Kid. 

I. Querando il cibo la capra si mosse 

Et al ovile il figlo recomanda, 
Eccossì luy castica e gli comanda 
Che non apra may l'usso per percosse, 
Né per luxinghe se alcliun di fuor fosse, 5 

Fin che non torna cum la sua vivanda. 
Eccoti il lupo el diserar dimanda, 
Voce di capra fa cum voce grosse. 
"Fati lontano, il capreto gli disse, 
Che d'esser capra mente tua loquella, 10 

E per toy ingani molti ne perisse. 
Che sie mia madre menti ala favella, 
E te eser lupo le pariete scisse 
Ti mostra, e no mia madre ni caprella." 
Perfecta è la doctrina di parenti, 15 

E chi la sprexia ni riman dolenti. 

II. El vien a te amico over parente 

El quai ti doni perfecto consiglio, 
Amico mio, dagli tosto di piglio 
E tiel serato fermo nela mente. 

S'el ti bixogna subitanamente, 5 

Uxa com esso com'al padre figlio, 
Lieto ti troveray cum chiaro ciglio, 
E tuoy nimici rimmara dolente. 
Com'el capreto ubidì la soa madre, 
Cossi debiamo ubedir fede nostra 10 

Negli comandamenti de Dio padre. 
Guarti dal enemico che ti mostra 
Sì come lupo parole buxarde, 
Sol per condurte al infernal giostra. 
Or doncha fugi sua giostra violente, 15 

Che le anime con lui stan mal contente. 

MS. II. 15 violente giostra. 16 lacking. 

Var. I. 3 così lo ammonisse. 7 lupo che ad aprir. 8 Parlar de 
capra. 9 Statti lontano. 

Var. II. 4 E fermo tienlo stretto, 14 parole bugiadre. 15 giostra 
violente. After line 16 cornes a Latin couplet translated: Non te 
diletti l'homo lusignero, Ma quel che ti Correggio e dice il vero. 


30. Peasant Who Strikes Snake. 

I. Avea nutrito el vilan un serpente, 
El serpe luy tenia per car amico. 

Al vilan ritornò per inimico 

El dito serpe subitanamente 

E sul capo il ferì vilanamente. 5 

E poy si fo pentito com'o dico, 

Credendo per quel fallo esser mendico, 

Perdón gli domandava humelmente. 

Disse il serpente: "I non serò securo 

Fin ch'el mio capo sera recordevole 10 

Del colpo tuo cotanto aspero e duro. 

Esser non voglio più participevole 

Del animo disccognosente e scuro 

Senza pietate e fuor de raxonevole. 

Offender vuol anchor chi offende pria, 15 

E'1 don del rio venim credo che sia. 

II. Quando tu servi algun di bona fé, 
E nel bixogno tuo ti offenda pò, 

Un altra volta digli tu di no, 

Com'el serpente al vilanazo fé. 

Che quando gli domandò poy mercè 5 

Delà sua injuria, poy si ricordò 

E disse: "Tu me feristi sul cho, 

Sì che giamay mi fiderò di te." 

Adamo et Eva il dimonio tradì, 

Però non ti fidar giamay di lu, 10 

Che vuolentieri inganarebe ti. 

Servi a coluy che per nostra salu 

Fo passionato, ne giamay mentì, 

Sì che cum luy ti receva lasù. 

M8. 1. 12 participeule. 

412 brush [38 

31. Stag and Sheep. 

I. Un giorno il cervuo ala pegra dimanda, 

Presente il lupo, un vaso di formento, 
Che la gli renda. Il lupo incontenento 
Subitamente gli dice e comanda. 

La pecora, per la timanza granda, 5 

Confessa contra suo proprio talento 
Di far il cervo tuto contento, 
Al termino che la sentencia manda. 
Eccoti in breve ch'el termino passa, 
Dimanda il cervuo la promisione; 10 

La pecora rispoxe a voce bassa: 
"La mia promessa non vai di raxone, 
Che per non esser delà vita" cassa, 
Confessa fui tua falsa questione." 
Pacto fato per tema vai niente, 15 

Né fede à le parole del timente. 

IL Non esser scarso giamai di parole 

Quando tu poy scamparti la persona, 
Fa ogni pacto cum parola bone 
Pur che ti chiavi fuor di cotal scole. 
Non vai né tene, questo raxon vole, 5 

Pacto facto per tema, né consona. 
Ess'el promisso may di ciò raxona, 
Digli cotal raxon uxar si suole. 
Cossi il pechato più volte te chiede, 
Presente l'enimico, l'uomo adello, 10 

Per trarlo fuori de bona fede, 
E cossi engaña l'enimico fello. 
Ma s'el non fosse la justa mercede, 
Di nuy farebe più volte flagiello. 

Però guardati ben da far tal pacti 15 

Com el pecato, che tu no te inbrati. 

Var. I. 3 lupo turbulento. 4 judica e comanda. 7 De far che el 
cervo ne resti contento. 
Var. II. 7 Esser promisso. 


32. Bald Man and Fly. 

I. Vogliando il calvo la mosca ferire, 
Si medesimo ferisse e quella ride. 

El calvo quando ritornar la vide 

Contra la mosca così prese a dire: 

"Se io me ferischo, tu ride e mi mire, 5 

E solo un colpo te abbatte e conquide; 

Ferirme diece volte non me occide, 

Per una volta te convien morire. « 

La gratia mia a mi sta sempre pronta, 

E la tua trista, che è nocente e sorda, 10 

Ben tosto fie da nulla, se fie gionta." 

Quel che offender altrui sempre recorda, 

Se lo offeso voi vendicar sua onta, 

Non c'è qui conscientia che el rimorda, 

Che ben pò fir offeso quel che offende, 15 

E de picol cagion gram mal descende. 

II. Come la mosca el calvo quivi attenta, 
Così lo mondo attenta li cristiani, 
Quanto più schiffa soi diletti vani, 

Tanto più certo quelli li presenta. 

Così penando la persona stenta 5 

Hora presso te mostra, hora lontani, 

Ferisse spesso con pensieri strani, 

Né mai salvo al peccato te contenta. 

"Se io te ferisco pur una sol volta, 

El calvo dice, non harai sofrenza, 10 

Che ogni possantia da te non sia tolta." 

Convien ferirse cun la penitenza, 

La falsa moscha sì che sia dissolta 

Da el peccatore per la obedienza. 

A ciò che schivi la sententia grave, 15 

Guardati da ferir con voglie prave. 

MS. I. Initial V of Vogliando omitted. 3 From this point to 
Part II., line 3, of the next fable, No. 33, the manuscript text is 
lost. The lacuna has been filled from the 1479 edition. 

414 BRUSH [40 

33. Fox and Stork. 

I. La volpe invitò seco la cygogna 
Falsariamente per darli da cena; 
De sottil cibo la gran concha piena 
Li presentò senza atto di menzogna. 

La cycogna al mangiar par che si sogna, 5 

Per che del cibo prender non pò apena, 

Ma saviamente può la volpe mena 

A cena senza mostra de rampogna, 

E disse: "Amica, perfette vivande 

Habiamo a cena, andiamo ciascaduna." 10 

Quella se mosse ale parole blande, 

Mangiar potea la volpe ad una ad una 

Le giozze che dal longo becho spande 

Sopra el vaso del vetro, onde dejuna. 

Quel che tu non voresti, a altrui non fare, 15 

Né piaga far che potresti portare. 

II. Colini ch'è offeso sempre se ricorda 
E tutta volta pensa la vendetta, 

E quando può ti la da tuta neta; 

Però non dare al can che non ti morda. 

De non tirare di tal vicio corda, 5 

Lasciala stare come maledeta, 

Tira la vista buona e benedeta, 

Che dal servire may non si discorda. 

Chi siegue ingano, prima offende Cristo, 

E poscia si conturba si medesmo, 10 

E del anima sua si trova tristo. 

Conturba l'inganato ch'el batesmo 

Biastema se a vendeta non fìa visto, 

E cossi perde l'alma el cristianesmo. 

Non voler farti cicogna ni volpe; 15 

Fa sì che rio pecato no t'incolpe! 

MS. II. Resumes with line 3. 

Var. II. 7 la justa, santa e benedetta. 


34. Wolf and Bust. 

I. El lupo andando fuori per un campo 
Ritrovò un capo ben fato per arte. 

Quel com el piede el volze in ogni parte, 

E guarda quanto è bello el dolce stampo, 

Che quasi mostra aver dy vita stampo. 5 

Unde parlò : " Più gientil contratarte 

Non ti potria maestro hedificarte, 

Se solo avisti delà vita nampo, 

Ma tu sey senza voce e senza mente, 

Sì che niente vale tua beleza, 10 

E capo sey adoncha da niente." 

Cossi pertien al uomo aver destreza 

Dal animo, del cuor, donde possente, 

Savia e acorta fazia soa grandeza. 

El nobel cuor estingue ogni diffeto, 15 

E sol nel mondo è l'animo perfecto. 

II. Capo di pietra fato in forma humana 
Trovò il lupo fuori in un bel prato. 

Quelo col piede il vuolgie in ogni lato, 

Bello gli parse ma una cossa vana. 

Per che da sentimenti si lontana, 5 

Noi chiama più esser capo beato. 

Da luy si parte cossi sconsolato, 

E'1 capo lasa come cossa strana. 

Cossi l'uomo tristo e doloroso, 

Che in questo mondo come un zocho vive, 10 

E tuto il tempo suo sta ocioso, 

Né may si trova che da luy dirive, 

Salvo che lamentarsi estar pensoso, 

Temando che luxura non si prive. 

Né a Dio né al mondo cotal homo atende, 15 

Se tu gli servi, par che tu l'offende. 

Var. IL 2 capo d'huom fatto. 5 de vita scampo. 8 vita vanpo. 
Var.II. After line 16 is a Latin couplet translated: Pero che 
ogni servir servitio vole, Servi con fede a chi servir te sole. 

416 brush [42 

35. Crow in Peacock Feathers. 

I. Vestisse el corvo d'una zentil piuma 

D'un bel pavón, ch'el trovò nela via. 
Costui s'adorna, costuy si polia, 
E di superbia montò sula cima, 

E di star fra pavoni fa sua stima, 5 

E non si teme aver sua compagnia. 
Quando di questo i pavón s'avedia, 
Luy dispogliò, e luy bate e dilima, 
"Chi trope vole, e il corvo alora parla, 
El tuto lassa, e cade nel estreme, 10 

Vogliendo la natura sua sforzarla. 
El corpo mio, che nudo langue e gieme, 
La vesta sua potria lieta portarla, 
Là donde povertà ville me preme." 
Coluy che lascia il suo per tuor l'altruy, 15 

Ignorante di se disorta luy. 

IL El corvo è l'uomo al mondo baratero, 

Che nel mondo percaza grandi officii, 
E quand'è grande fa de molti assticii, 
Rubando Polo, Martino e Si Piero. 
E poy quando si vede bien altiero 5 

E vestito digli altri beneficii, 
Tra grandi va, né teme malefici, 
Tanto chi vien falito suo pensiero. 
Sopra gli vien subito la fortuna, 

Ch'el mena al fondo e tuto lo dispoglia, 10 

E fagli il dì parer di note bruna. 
Ay quanto è duro sofrir tal doglia! 
Xè in questo mondo n'è persona alguna 
De non pigliati azoglia.. 

Di voler tor l'altruy per algun modo, 15 

Che tosto vien ch'el se desficha il chiodo. 

Var. I. 1 bianca piuma. 16 deserta. 

Before line 1 is a Latin couplet translated: Se tu voi far alcuna 
cosa grande, Mensura el tuo poder quanto si spande. 

Var. II. 2 Che d'ognhora. 9 Da poi gli sopragionge la. 13 Im- 
perciò che non è. 14 Che del suo male non ne pigli zoglia. 15 Deh! 
non tor tu lo altrui. 


36. Mule and Fly. 

I. La mula carcha dal pexo dolente 

Dal mulater offexa piglia il corso. 
La mosclia minazando i da di morso, 
E disse: "Dorme tuo piede corrente, 
Curri liziera via subitamente. 5 

Non sentirne nemica del tuo dorso, 
Che contra el ponzer mio non à socorso?" 
La mula gli rispuoxe a mantinente: 
"Per che tu suoni grande, mostrar vuoy 
Che tu sie grande, ma di te non dubito, 10 

Né temo te né le minace touoy. 
Temo coluy che col suo grave cubito 
Spesso mi bate nely accesi suoy, 
E'1 grave pondo ch'el mi poni subito." 
Non teme il tristo al forte minazare, 15 

Quando c'è tempo ch'egli il possa fare. 

IL Se nel aversità recevi injuria, 

Non temer li minace del dimonio, 
Che Dio sempre sera tuo tistimonio 
A liberarti da sua mortai furia. 

Tutora Dio il sofferente alturia, 5 

Quando gli piace, il bate col suo conio. 
Tute l'altre minace son insonio, 
Tu solo timi Dio e la sua curia. 
San Gieronimo dice ch'el fastidio 

De Pinimicho sempre sta solicito 10 

Per condur l'uomo al enfernal astidio. 
Escempio delà mula te fia licito, 
Che non teme delà moscha l'ensidio, 
Ma teme il proprio suo signore hospicito. 
Adoncha questo recogli felicito, 15 

E tale exempio fa che te sia placito. 

MS. IL 16 lacking. 

Var. I. 16 Quando non teme che esso el possi fare. 

Var. II. 15 racogli e state tacito. 


418 brush [44 

37. Fly and Ant. 

I. La mosca mosse lite ala formica; 
"Trista che stay enele oscure cave, 

E per fatica duri pene grave, 

Et i'ò la nobel casa per amica, 

E'1 chiaro vin bever non mi faticha, 5 

E tu t'afondi nele fece prave, 

El baso dono ale golte soave 

Dele regine per usanza anticha." 

Ripose la formica: "I'vivo in pace 

Nela mia cava, e tu sempre in rancura. 10 

I fati tuoy a tuto el mondo spiace; 

Bevando il vino vivi cum paura; 

El falivello ti da bote penace, 

E'1 fredo inverno ti da morte dura." 

Vien odio e pace segondo il contendere, 15 

Che odio e fede suol la lingua rendere. 

II. Se la cativa lingua ti contende, 
Serra le orechie e refrena la alduta, 
Però che ogni resposta sie perdua, 

E zò da vertù vien chi no gli atende. 

Ma si discreta lingua ti riprende, 5 

Quela come humeltate tu salua, 

Per che vertute in ley è divolua, 

Che scaza l'odio e la fede comprhende. 

Prima vertute è constringere la lingua, 

Dice Catone nel suo bel volume, 10 

A zò che ogni mal dir da ley se stingua. 

Lingua che nel mal dir prende costumme, 

Dice San Sisto, è di malicia pregna, 

Che dal animo rio lingua fa lumme. 

Or colglete le summe 15 

De non seguir el vicio delà moscha, 

E la formica per vuy se cognoscha. 

MS. IL 2 line ends with refrena. 

Var.I. 2 che jaci. 3 soffri. 7 ale guanze. 11 La tua natura ; 
tutto. 13 botte tenace. 15-16 guerra for odio. 
Var.IL 2 Chiudi le orechie. 13 malicia pingua. 

45] ESOPO ZÜCCARINO , ¿ 419 

38. Fox, Wolf and Monkey Judge. 

I. Davanti da Meser lo Simioto, 

Quale era zuxe, il lupo dimanda 
Ala volpe per furto, e'ia negava 
Ogni dimanda, tuta moto a moto. 
El judice, che non era ben docto, 5 

Di saper leze tra luy simulava, 
E secreto di mente si pensava, 
E la sentencia soa diede diboto. 
Al lupo disse: "Tua dimanda è frodo, 
Né tue parole son digne di fede, 10 

Ne la tua propria fé no gli dar lodo. 
E tu, volpe, col vitio dele arede, 
Ben megi il furto come uxevol modo, 
Or fate pace ch'io ve do mercede." 
Non sa lasciar gli engani i malfactori, 15 

E cum più vive diventa pizori. 

II: El lupo cum la volpe fa tenzone, 

Dimandando per furto, e quela nega. 
Ecco doe que limoxine s'alega, 
La gola e l'avaricia fa questione. 

La gola non vuol perdere soa raxone, 5 

E l'avaricia la sua borsa strenga. 
El judice, che sua sentencia spiega, 
Salvo di pace fa comandaxone. 
Come far pace può quivi la gola? 
Gula dimanda solo per si sola, 10 

No largeza ma prodegalitate, 
Avaricia non cura dignitate, 
Ingana ghioca sempre roba e invola 
E desliale senza veritate. 

L'un diserta e l'altro si consuma, 15 

Doncha fugite sua cativa suma. 

Var. I. 2 Fatto judice. 

Var. II. 3 Ecco che due elemosine. 6 borsa lega. After Une 16 
comes a Latin quotation from Sallust translated: Per che lo avar 
no se riposa ma, Non pò acquistar sciencia ne bontà. 

420 BRUSH [46 

39. Ferret and Mouse. 

I. La donóla avea prexo un topo grande, 

Intanto l'uomo prexe la mustella» 
Dimandando perdón quella favella: 
''Justo è'1 perdón a me juste dimande, 
El tuo nimicho, che quivi s'apande, 5 

Cum sua zenia la mia possa martella, 
Tenir me dey como cara sorella, 
Che tuoi nemici ligo, ucido e prande." 
"Per l'utel tuo l'animo prompto e rio 
Ucide i rati, l'uomo prexe a dire, 10 

Per esser solla a roder el pan mio, 
Credendo l'enemico far perire, 
Il suo nemico agranda, dove io 
Ti penso per gli damni far morire." 
Non è che adorni il facto de niente, 15 

S'el non c'è l'uopra, è'1 fructo delà mente. 

II. Chi libero non serve, nulla valle, 

Per ch'el premio refrena il buon volere. 
Cossi l'uopra mostra suo podere 
Come a servite sua voglia gli calle. 
Credendo l'enemico farti malie, 5 

Talor ti serve senza suo piacere, 
L'amico ancora talora cadere 
Ti fa, crendo servir liberalle. 
El justo l'enimico spesso atenta, 

Credendo luy tor giù di buon talento, 10 

E la possa de Dio più l'argumenta. 
Ecco sul tristo ch'à falso argumento, 
Con più fi consigliato, più tormenta, 
E più s'aferma al rio proponimento. 
La mustella ucidea il suo nimico, 15 

Inimicando se mostrava amico. 

Var. I. 8 nemici uccido e ne f o sangue. 

Var. II. 2 referma. 4 a servire sua voglia li sale. 


40. Frog and Ox. 

I. La rana, per volierse simigliare 
Al bove di persona e de grandeza, 

Si messe voler farsi a sua gualeza, 

E feramente se prexe a sgonfiare. 

El figliol suo gli dixe: "Dey! non fare! 5 

Cai bove sey niente de pareza, 

E s'el non cessa quela tua fereza, 

Ben levemente potresti crepare." 

Corrozòssi feramente la rana, 

E di sgonfiarsi sforza sua natura, 10 

Credendosi compir sua voglia vana. 

Unde sgonfiata fuor delà mexura, 

Li enteriori cade in tera piana. 

Sì che di sfata jace sua figura. 

Non voglia al grande el pizol simigliarsi, 15 

Consiglisi e voglia temperarsi. 

II. Guardative, signor, farvi ranochia, 
Né vi sconfiati per vostra superba, 

E lacio et inflacio non si surba, 

Cipriano dice, ne Cristo le adochia, 

Ma del dimoino son cotai panochia, 5 

E Dio d'umilitate chiede l'erba. 

Sgonfiati vuy crepati a pena acerba, 

E poy l'anime vostre non sornochia. 

Vuy pur volete, signor, farvi grande, 

Più che non vi richiede la natura, 10 

La quale sempre suol masticar jande. 

E quando sete nel altru pastura, 

Vuy vi sgonfiati dele sue vivande, 

Le qual crepati cade ala verdura. 

El ben mondano vuy lasciati in terra, 15 

E col nemico l'anima s'aferra. 

Var. I. 3 Se puose. 16 Pria se consigli. 

Var. II. 2 per voglia superba. 3 Che la negra palude non ve 
serba. 12 Le qual ve fan crepar. 

422 brush [48 

4L Lion and Shepherd. 

I. Al león intrò una spina nel pede, 

E zopegando vide un pegoraro, 
Il qual un buon castrato iprexentaro, 
Querando a luy pietà di buona fede. 
El lion ver luy cuz humeltà procede, 5 

Porsiglie il pede, che dovesse traro 
La spina fuori, e quel gela cavaro. 
Unde il lion si gli rese mercede. 
Prexo il leone fo conduto a Roma, 
Con molte fere dentro dala rena. 10 

Digno di morte il pecoraro anoma, 
E tra le fiere per suo cibo il mena, 
Liberòl il leon di cotal soma, 
Unde Romani l'ira sua rafrena. 

Non si de il merto vilmente scaciare, 15 

Del beneficio se dian ricordare. 


IL Coluy che serve may non può perire, 

Se tropo gravy pechati noi tocha, 
Ma quando quelo che pecati inbrocha 
Va zopegando e quaxi non può zire, 
Per ch'el pecato noi lascia guarire, 5 

E cossi sta fermato nela çocha, 
E quando a penitencia si discrocha, 
Rimedio trova che non può perire. 
Cossi il leone trovò medexina 

Et aiutato dal justo pastore, 10 

Che lietamente gli trasse la spina. 
Cossi consola certo il pecatore 
L'animo a Dio quando mal se destina, 
E subito ritorna al suo factore. 

Chi serve a Dio, perir non può zamay, 15 

E sempre schiva i dolorosi guay. 

Var. I. 3 castrato e hebbe'l caro. 6 piede per trovar riparo. 7 
Quel gli cavò la spina e il duol amaro. 14 Und'el popul roman. 

Var. II. 2 Ma se grande peccato troppo el tocha. 3 Come fa quel 
che da el chiodo se imbrocha. 5 Così el pecato non se pò guarire. 
8 pò morire. 11 li cavò. 13 quando ben. 


42. House and Lion. 

I. Pasturando il cavallo in un bel prato, 
Vene il leon per voler lui manzare, 

E sue parolle prexe simulare: 

"Medico son nel arte amaistrato, 

Se tu vien mecho, i'te farò beato." 5 

Prima il cavalo prexe pensare 

Al frodo, e per voler luy inganare 

Disse: "Credo che Dio t' à qui mandato, 

Malatia grande nel mio pede sento." 

El lion vogliendo mostrar medecina, 10 

Quel cum suoy calci gli diede tromento, 

Unde suoy menbri sopiti dechina. 

Disse il lion: "Per falso pensamento 

Sostegno male e greve disiplina." 

Non voler farti quel che tu non sey, 15 

Che tu non cadi neli accessi rey. 

II. Homo cativo, a cui mal far dileta, 
Per che mutar ti voy di tua natura? 
Non vede tu che la justa mesura 
Giamay non calla, ma stassi perfecta? 

Vedi il leone che vuol dar dieta, 5 

Medicinando fuor per la verdura, 

Unde il cavallo gli fici paura 

Quando di calci gli diedi la streta. 

Cossi nel falso nemico sempre incalza 

L'uomo che chietamente in pace vive, 10 

Et in sua vanagloria sempre s'alza. 

Idio, che may non vuol ch'el justo prive, 

Com' el suo signo gli fa dar di calza, 

Quando signato s'à zaschun che vive. 

Però d'offender altruy ciaschun si schive, 15 

Per che V offeso in mar mor e lo scrive. 

MS. II. 16 lacking. 

Var. II. 5 leone come ben se assetta. After line 16 is a Latin 
couplet translated: Se tu hai nemici, non li vilipendere, Sapi chi 
pensan sempre mai de offendere. 

424 brush [50 

43. Horse and Ass. 

I. Del freno, dele barde e delà sella 

Alegrassi el cavallo tanto bello, 
E superbisse contra l'asinelio 
Offexo dala carga grave e fella. 

Ver luy disse cum fera favella: 5 

"Occuri al tuo signore, miserello." 
Fortuna tosto gfi volsi mantello, 
Luy smagra, batte, luy spoglia e flagiella. 
Nel asino scontròssi, et el gli disse: 
"Se Dio ti salve! Dov'è il gientil freno, 10 

La respiendente sella, e l'altre arnisse? 
Como sey di grasieza giunto al meno, 
Che magrega ti preme in tute guisse, 
Manchati orzo, spelta, vena o feno!" 
Né i ben vani non voler credere, 15 

Nè'l povero offender, che tu poy cadere. 

IL Or puoni mente ala falsa sembiança 

Ch'el mondo porze nela vanagloria, 
Che quanto monti e quanto più ta gloria 
Cotanto più ti trovy buffa e zanca. 
Quanto ti mostra più ligiadra stanca, 5 

Tanto più tuolti da Dio la memoria, 
E quanto credi aver maior victoria, 
Tanto più tosto cade tua bilanza. 
Non odi tu come l'asino dice: 

" Dov'è la sella, il freno esi le barde? 10 

Dov'è di tua superbia la radice, 
Per che nel ben mazar cotanto tarde? 
Dov'è il buon feno e del grano le spice, 
Per che sey maceo, e or per che non s'arde ? " 
Queste cosse buxarde 15 

Chi mostra il mondo e poy di nuy caleffa, 
E col nemico ce lassa ale ceffa. 

Var. I. 6 Va nanti al. 

Var. II. 5 legiadra danza. 14 non pice. 15 cose felice. 12 Line 
13 precedes line 12. After line 17 is a Latin couplet translated: 
Nisun se fidi del tempo sereno, Che spesso el muta aspetto e volgie 
el freno. 


44. Bat, Birds and Beasts. 

I. Faceano insieme una grande bataglia 
Tuti gli ucelli contra gli animali, 

E la victoria stava tra le ali 

Degli ucelli, che le fere travaglia. 

El vespertiglio par che non si calgla 5 

Contra gli ucelli dar corpi mortali, 

Abandonando soy compagni equali, 

Contra lor vuole che sua possa vaglia. 

Possa vegiando lassua possa grande 

Che avean gli ucelli per l'aquila forte, 10 

Subitamente alor si torna e rande. 

Comandando gli ucelli amare sorte 

Gli diede c'al volar l'ale non spande 

Salvo la note, in pena delà morte. 

Chi offende la sua patria è fuor de honori, 15 

Servessi injustamente duy signori. 

II. Oidi novella che qui el berbistrello 
Stava sicuro a dir viva chi viençe! 
Ora da l'una parte, or torna a quince, 
Or viva il leo! Et or viva l'ucello! 

Cossi l'uomo cativo e topinello, 5 

El quai de lialtate mai si finge, 

Ma sempre nel mal far si liga e cinze, 

Sempre metendo mal da questo a quello. 

Cossi coluy il quai non à fermeza, 

Vasi ala chiexa e sta molto di voto, 10 

E com'è fuori è di pezor fereza. 

Al berbistrello fo dato andar di noto, 

Cossi chi siguirano cotal treza 

Nel profondo d'abisso averà suo scoto. 

L'apostol dice ben ni si compensa 15 

De Cristo e del dimonio la lor mensa. 

Var. I. Ile pande. 

Var. II. 12 Al barbastel di notte andar è noto. 14 suo voto. 10 
in una mensa. 

426 brush [52 

45. Hawk and Nightingale. 

I. Cantava dolcemente il risignolo, 
Sul nido suo lieto si dieportava; 
Intanto il sparavero gli rivava, 

El nido gli asaltò, ch'era nel bruolo. 

Quela suplico a luy cum grave duolo. 5 

"Canta soave," il sparivero parlava. 

El risignuol più dolce ancor cantava, 

Per tema che non manzasse il figliolo. 

Quella cantando avea nel core doglia. 

El sparaveri gridò : "Tu mal canti." 10 

E presente la madre il figlio spoglia. 

Cossi convien che di dolor s'amanti 

E senza morte la morte ricoglia 

Dal cor roduto da gravosi pianti. 

Merita il rio mal fin e mala vita, 15 

E teme l'arte che justi merita. 

II. El risignuolo canta dolcemente 

Per guardar ch'el suo nido non fia guasto; 

El sparaveri, per rubargli il pasto, 

Vuol che di canto più dolce il contente. 

E cossi fa la dolorosa mente 5 

Del uxeraro, quando da di tasto 

Al puover huomo gli mete tal basto, 

Che lasciar gli convieni canpi e zumente. 

Canta via dolce, e quel gli puorta l'uova, 

Canta più dolce, e'1 gli da la galina, 10 

Ancor più dolce, à la biada nuova, 

Tropo più dolce, e vutagli le scrina. 

Cossi come i figlioli fame pruova, 

E mendicando fa vita topina, 

Né may si menda questi sciagurati, 15 

Maledeti da Dio e biastemati, 

Usurari suogeti ala rapina. 

Var. I. 15 che male vita. 16 Sempre ha menato e poi pena infinita. 
Var. II. 3 spar ver che poi li robbò. 12 e voltagli la schina. After 
line 16 come three additional lines of text: 

anima meschina! 

Che mai se pente deli soi peccati. 

Doppo la morte vassen tra dannati. 


46. Fox Betrays Wolf. 

I. Aveva il lupo furato un agnello, 
La volpe ver luy parlava lieta, 

E disse: "Dove sta tua vita cheta? 

Di te me meraveglio, car fradello." 

E quello a ley come riguardo fello: 5 

"Di pregar Dio per mi non cessi in fréta. 

Puoi volentieri troveresti meta 

Di furar ciò che col dente flagello." 

Partisse quella vergognosa e grama, 

El pecorar sula campagna vide, 10 

Quai feramente a se parlando chiama, 

E disse: "Il lupo l'agnel tuo divide." 

Mostragli il luocho, e quel d'ira s'infiama, 

Corsegli drieto e quelo junto ucide. 

Per invidia perisse chi rapina, 15 

Per gli altruy damni in suoy damni ruina. 

II. Eccoti il lupo aver l'agniello tolto, 
E divoralo suol per si soleto. 

Et ecoti la volpe cum dilecto 

Fraudevolmente fargli lietto volto. 

Cossi coluy che in le bragald'è involto, 5 

El soto cozo vien che sa il diffeto, 

E tutora gli mostra chiaro aspeto 

Per aver parte di quel ch'à disolto. 

E quando vide che coluy ghel nega, 

Dice tra se: "Daròtila per ponto." 10 

E come il suo signor gli da la piega. 

Quando il signore il ciagurato à giunto 

E vede che di certo el gli è la frega, 

Segondo sua justicia el fa difonto. 

Idio prima punisse il rubatore, 15 

E simelmente poy l'acusatore. 

Var. I. 6 per me non te affréta. 14 Ma quel dietro li corse e'1 
lupo occide. 16 sua vita ruina. 

Var. II. 5 le maghagne è. 14 def mieto. 




47. Stag and Antlers. 

Speculavasi il cervo nel chiaro fonte, 
Ito per bevere ala fresca fontana, 
E superbisse della gloria vanna 
Delle ramose corne del suo fronte. 
Poy si lamenta delle magre zonte 
Dele sue cambe. Et ecco per la piana 
Latrando cani, e quel cum voce sana 
Le gambe priega c'al correr sian pronte. 
Fuzando il cervo nel boscho discese, 
E cum le corne luonge ch'el avia 
Ingategliòssi senza far difexe. 
Intanto i Gazatori lì venia, 
E subito quel cervo ligò e prexe, 
Dala speranza offexo vana e ria. 
Sprexia quel che ci giova è gran mateza, 
Quel che ci noce, abiamo per legreza. 



IL Come tu vidi, il cervo quivi preso 

Fu per la vannagloria delle corne, 
Che più non vada né più retro torne 
Di ce le frasche da cuy son contexo. 
Eccosì l'uomo dalla fonte offexo, 
Cioè dal mondo in cuy spechiar ti scorni, 
Per lo pecato prexo, unde sozorne, 
E nel peccato convien star alexo. 
Quando sentisti che latrava i cani, 
Cioè il demonio che ti sottomesse, 
Alora cognosesti i pensier vanni. 
Tu pregavi le gambe che corresse, 
Cioè la penetenza ma lo lontani, 
Tropo eram fati tuoi penser da esse. 
Per gli pecati si porta le penne, 
Però zaschadun si sforza di far benne. 



Var. I. 7 Latrar li cani ma la voce il sana. 16 noce haverlo per 

Var II. 2 per lo desiderio. 4 Di con le frasche dale quai fu 


48. Knight and Widow. 

I. Duolsi la donna del marito priva, 

E nocte e dì la sepoltura abraza. 
Eccoti un ladro ala croce s'alaza, 
La guardia forte la note si tinia, 

Andò ala tomba e la dona queriva 5 

Che gli porzesse bevre in una caza, 
Apresso ciò d'amor quela bonaza. 
Quella consente senza voglia schiva, 
Possa la guardia ritornò ala croce, 
>, Trovò ch'el ladro gli era tolto via. 10 

Ala donna tornò cumme humel voce: 
" Oimè ! Come de far la vita mia ! " 
"Non dubitar," quela dice feroce. 
E sula croce il marito metia. 

Teme i vivi paura, e morti pena, 15 

Et a mal fin femena l'uopra mena. 

IL Vedi la donna pianzer il marito 

E poy cavarlo delà sepoltura. 
Vedi malicia propria e non sciagura 
Poner luy in croce essendo morto. 
O peccato mortale istabelito 5 

Che non temi vergogna ne paura, 
Luxuria in cui non si trova mesura, 
Unde più parte del mondo è perito. 
La dona il suo marito abraza e strinze, 
Cioè luxuria abraza questo mondo, 10 

E quanto può a se il tira e constrinze, 
Poy il mete in croce col suo grave pondo. 
Cun Palturio del inimico il vinze, 
E trabucar il faze nel profondo. 

Non è nel mondo terribel pecato 15 

Quanto ch'è questo, ne più scelerato. 

Var. I. 3 ala forcha. 6 in una taccia. 7 quella percaccia. 11 
donna ne vien. 14 sula forcha; ponia. 15 Temen vivi vergogna. 

Var. II. 4 chi era sepelito. 12 E doppo in croce el pone con grau 
pondo. 15 horribel. 

430 brush [56 

49. Youth and Haklot. 

I. Per l'arte sua la blandente bagassa 
Un gioveneto trasse al falso amore, 
Dicendo: "0 vita, O spene del mio core! 
Tu sey coluy che possar non mi lassa, 

Il tuo amore si com el mio s'acassia, 5 

Che esser denno inseme d'un colore. 

Son serva tua, voglio che si segnore 

Del corpo mio, ch'ai tuo voler s'abassa." 

E quello a ley: "O dolce mia speranza! 

Sum tuo, sie mia, tuto mi ti abandono. 10 

In me giamay non troveray falanza. 

Ma fami avere il gracioso dono, 

Dale parole ai fati dubitanza, 

Come già fece l'enfengibel sono." 

Chi ama la bagassa può crerre 15 

Ch'eia non ama luy, ma sì l'averre. 

II. Eccoti qui le false meretrice, 
Deslialtate e simulatione. 
Eccoti due perfecte compagnone 
A farti perdere l'anima felice. 

Simula falsamente sua radice 5 

Per condur l'uomo a disperatione, 

Poy dal enimico vien temptatione, 

Che ti consiglia del stato infelice: 

"Io son in tuto toa, O vita mia!" 

Eccoti qui simulare il contrario: 10 

"Cossi sie mio," come una voce pia. 

Ecco deslialtate, color vario; 

"Viver non posso, s'io non ò tua guya." 

Cossi perisse il giusto per falsario, 

Tu credi ch'el mondan dilecto t'ama, 15 

Ma per farti perire a se ti chiama. 

Var. I. 4 che in requie. 5 amor con el mio così se amassa. 6 de- 
veno. 15 pò ben sapere. 


50. Father and Son. 

I. Il padre castigava so figliolo, 
E'l figliolo al padre non crede niente, 
Sempre il contrario piglia nela mente, 
Unde suo padre molte se ne duolo, 

E quando il figlio falla com'el suolo 5 

El padre bate i fanti duramente, 

E sempre a castigarlo è sofrente, 

E di sua mente questa faula. tuolo: 

" Figliol, la man maestra del bovolcho 

Puose il vitello in giovo com'el bove, 10 

Simel a quel del ixola del colcho, 

Unde il bovolcho tal parole move: 

'Ara via lieto chè'l convien ch'el solcho.' " 

El giovene dal vechio impare e trove 

Molto gioua cautela di dotrina 15 

Per ch'el minor al major si dichina. 

II. Però che fui di vuy primo creatore, 
Adamo vi creai per primo padre 

Eva ve trassi vostra prima madre, 

Moyse ve diedi per gubernatore, 

Abram, Ysach, Jacob, consiliatore, 5 

Che di virtude ve mostro le quadre. 

Tuti propheti cum viste ligiadre, 

Verità disse e non fo mentitore. 

Tuti costor vi frustay davanti 

Per castigarvi per lor gran martire, 10 

E vuy pur nel mal far seti constanti. 

El mio dolce figiol cum gran dexire 

Tra vuy manday cum humeli sembianti; 

Vuy per invidia lo fisti morire. 

Non ve castigare com padre figlio, 15 

Poy che voglite l'eterno periglio. 

MS. IL 1 nuy. 

Var. I. 4 padre ne sente gran duolo. 5 figlio cornette alcum dolo. 
6 il servo. 9 mente fa questo revolo. 16 declina. 
Var. IL 1 vui for nuy. 

432 brush [58 

51. Viper and File. 

I. Intrò una serpa in casa d'un feraro 
Per la gran fame, e riguardando prima 
In bocha prexe una tagliente lima, 
Vogliendo ley del tuto rosegaro. 

La lima alora cominzò parlaro 5 

E disse: "Il morso mio non se dilima 

Ma tuti i ferri in farina sublima, 

Sì ch'el tuo morso non può dubitaro; 

Com el mio morso vincho ogni metalo, 

Le aspre piano, com el dento mio, 10 

Le tropo longe alla misura callo, 

E quele da foraro foro io, 

Sì ch'el tuo minazare è grave fallo. 

I'rido, e tu pianzeray del morso rio." 

Ami el men forte sempre il più.possente, 15 

Né luy contrari perchè fia perdente. 

II. Qui ti consiglia il perfeto maestro 
Che sempre debie amar l'uomo valente, 
Ne contradirgli ponto de niente, 

Che per sua forza ti può far sinestro. 

Mira quanto l'exempio ti da dextro 5 

De la serpe che per fame dolente 

Roder volea la lima cum suo dente, 

Che men il teme che bolza balestro. 

Simelmente non contender Dio, 

Ma sempre ama luy e la sua corte, 10 

Come justo signor possente e pio. 

E quando fame ti gieta le sorte 

D'ofendre il povereto amico mio, 

Lascialo in pace che è di te più forte, 

E ama sempre zaschuz tuo consorte; 15 

Lieto ti troverai doppo la morte. 

MS. II. 14 sorte. 16 lacking. 

Var. I. 7 in polvere. 8 Sì ch'el tuo dente mal non mi pò fare. 
13 è vano e frailo. 

Var. II. 3 over for de. 9 tu così non. 


52. Wolves and Sheep. 

I. Per Io molton sicure, e per lo cane, 

Da lupi si tenian le peccorelle. 
A lupi molto spiace tal novelle, 
Che contra loro stiano franche e sane. 
Tregua coni esse fece una dimane 5 

Per inganare quelle misserelle, 
E per ostaxo il can domanda a quelle. 
Elle si mosse ale promesse vane 
E'1 cane per ostaxo ai lupi dona. 

Un altro piglio poy da lupi prexe, 10 

Che a nullo obprobrio de lupi consona. 
I lupi ver di lor mosse contexe, 
Che avean roto et a nulla perdona, 
Dilacerando lor senza difexe. 

Sicur cossa è salvar chi el può defendere, 15 

S'el mancha l'enimico gli può offendere. 

IL Quando tu ay un perfecto avocato 

Simelmente procurator liale, 
Amico mio, tiéntelo per cotale, 
Che l'altra parte non ti faza mato. 
Non oidi tu, come te dice Cato, 5 

Da secreto consiglio al tuo sodale, 
Se l'abandoni, tu ne rivi male, 
Et al dissoto cadi al primo trato, 
Al compromessa la setta lupina 

Subitamente ti ricorre adosso 10 

Ch'ay posta tua raxon perfecta e fina. 
Dice gli tuoy: "Più aitar non ti posso, 
Che l'insti tu ta e'1 codego defina 
Là dove lupi fa bochon più grosso." 
Chi dala penitenza s'abandona, 15 

Subito l'enimico adosso sprona. 

Var. I. 1 Per guardia del montón. 4 siano. 6 le triste miserelle. 
13 rotto el patto. 

Var. II. 2 un tuo fator liale. 11 Questi fan tua rason. 


434 brush [60 

53. Man and Trees. 

I. L'uomo luprega el boscho eh' el gli presti 

Un manico, che non gli vai usare 
La sua secure che non può tagliare, 
Unde convien che da luy la rivesti. 
Coluy consente i maltalenti presti, 5 

E l'uomo il boscho cominzò truncare, 
Cun la sicure quel tuto disfare 
Dentro e di fuore cum fere tempesti. 
" Io perischo, alora il boscho disse, 
Istesso son caxon del mio periglio, 10 

Per lo mio ligno mia vita perisse, 
Per lo dom ch'el vilano da di piglio 
A disfarmi quel sua man si ardisse, 
Cossi ci afonda el nimico consiglio." 
Guardati di dar favore al tuo nemico, 15 

Che coni el tuo medesmo fie mendico. 

IL Ala sicure ch'el manico mancha, 

Dimanda l'uomo al bosco che g'el dia. 
Coluy a soy malfari consentía, 
E l'uomo luy disfar may non si stancha. 
Cossi coluy che l'enimico afrancha, 5 

Per gli suoy doni porta mala via, 
Truovasi in scelerata malatia 
Tosto cadere, dove il vicio brancha. 
Delà folla e del mondo dito è quivi, 
E contra l'enimico alcuna parte, 10 

Per dar axempio a color che son vivi. 
Chi al dimonio presta il suo sarte, 
Convien che nel profondo mal dirivi, 
Però che de mal far uxa quela arte. 
Or rote son le carte. 15 

Non c'è niuno che vero ti dicha, 
Se tu gli servi, et el ti da la ficha. 

Var. I. 1 rechiede. 4 che gli la. 13 con sue mani ardisse. 
Var. II. 9 De la folia del. 17 te fa poi. 


54. Dog and Wolf. 

I. Scontrósi il lupo nel cane e si dice : 
"La copia di buon cibi che tu gusti 
Politi e grassi monstra gli tuoy busti." 
El can rispuose: "Mia vita felice 

Facio di carne, faxam e perdice, 5 

Per che i ladri discazo e salvo i justi." 

"Tiecho voglio che mia vita si frusti," 

Il lupo si disse, e'l can a luy suplice. 

Vegiando il lupo i pilli delà gola 

Ch'eran caduti al cane, luy dimanda: 10 

"Per qual caxon?" E il gli disse: "Sola 

Per la morsura mia, ch'è tropo granda, 

Ligami il giorno." Il lupo tal parole 

Disse : " Non voglio che gola mi prenda," 

Libertà non si vende ben per oro, 15 

Quel don celeste passa ogni texoro. 

II. Salvando quela prima alegoría 
E la sententi a non bene pro toto, 
Convienmi refiorir un altro moto 
Com'el doctore mi da vigoria. 

Io non so dir sì ben com'io voria, 5 

Ben che l'animo di zò si dinoto, 

Ma quanto posso in me comprendo e noto, 

Per non scriver in van la rima mia. 

Nota qui ch'el dimoino dal inferno 

Mostra di compagnarsi a l'uomo justo 10 

So per condurlo nel abisso eterno, 

Ma quando vede il col di pilli frusto, 

Zoe di pecati, volzesi in alterno, 

Né vuol sentir di penitenza il gusto. 

Così el predica tor, s'io ben discerno, 15 

A ti vai nulla a predicar lo inferno. 

MS. II. 15-16 lacking. 

Var. I. 3 grossi. 8 E questo el lupo al cane anchor redice. 

Var. II. 6 sia di ciò devoto. 7 quanto io so, ciò che conprhendo, 

436 brush [62 

55. Belly and Members. 

I. I piedi cum le mane si lamenta 

Del ventre suo, che occioxe vive. 
E disse a luy: "Senza faticha prive 
El guadagno che nostra vita stenta, 
Or soffrisse la fame dolenta, 5 

Che tanto ingordo e tristo eser solive." 
Di dargli da manzar le man son schive, 
Là donde il corpo sua vita tromenta. 
Misericordia il corpo dimandava. 

La man avara niente gli vuol dare, 10 

Là donde il corpo a fin pericolava. 
E possa quando luy vuolse aiutare, 
El corpo non può più, che non parlava, 
L T nde insieme convien pericolare. 
Asay per se non è sol la persona 15 

Se non perdoni altrui, a te perdona. 

IL II ventre si simiglia al fontichare, 

E sì le membre agli altri mercadanti. 
Finch'al fonticho dura esta constanti, 
Niun di loro può pericolare. 

Come il fonticho vien abandonare, 5 

E che nel mercandar sono distanti, 
De signori diventa tristi fanti, 
Nè'l fonticho non gli può più aiutare. 
Similemente a nuy è sancta chiexa 
Fonticho justo dele anime nostre, 10 

Finché la oservi, sempre fa difexa, 
Contra il nemico com el quale tu chiostre. 
Ma se pur tua malicia fi represa, 
Convien che perdi le beate chiostre. 
Però non abandonar quel che ti giova, 15 

Xè contra il tuo miglior non pigliar prova. 

MS. I. 15 till'a. //. 13-14 lacking. 

Var. I. 5 fame violenta. 15 Utel per se non è sol la persona. 

Var. II. 12 giostre. 


56. Ape and Fox. 

I. Lamentasi la simia déla lacha 

Contra la volpe e delà soza nadega, 
E disse: ''La toa coda molto radega, 
Che spazando la terra ogn'or si stracha. 
Un puocholin del peso che ti fracha 5 

A mia sozura si faria paradega, 
Che tanto forte non parria sylvatica." 
"Seriami aconza quella che ti mancha, 
Disse la volpe, a mi non par chi noxa, 
La coda mia mi par curta e legiera, 10 

Lamentomi che non è più gravoxa. 
Nangi volio che per la terra fera 
Che faza honore a tua lacha stizoxa, 
Ne faci acossa cossi soza spera." 

El tropo sempre par puoco al avaro, 15 

E'1 puocho tropo al puover homo paro. 

IL O avaricia, misera consorte! 

Seneca dice che qual più t'abraza, 
Più cade in povertade e più s'alaza. 
Quanto conciipiscendo sta più forte 
Ay radice d'ogni male sorte, 5 

Dice San Paulo, a quel che a te sissiaza. 
Salamon dice che túrbida faza 
A tua famiglia fai, se tu la porte. 
Adoncha non vogliete farvi volpe, 

Coprete le sue carne al puovereto, 10 

Ne lasciatel perir per vostre colpe. 
Idio mandò per nostro gran difecto 
In terra a judicar sue proprie polpe, 
Né avaro vi fu del proprio aspecto, 
Però zaschun di zò prenda l'effecto. 15 

E sia ben liberal al poveretto. 

MS. 1,1; II, 16 lacking. 

Var. I. 1 simia verghognosa. 4 Che scopando terren te è pon- 
derosa. 5-6 La cosa che te è tanto faticosa, Fariasse a mia sociura 
adatta e praticha, 8 Stariammi ben quella che ti è nogliosa. 9 che 
me sia. 10 La coda danno che è curta. 11 Assai più longa havere la 
voria. 12 terra giorno e sera. 13-14 Tirarmi dietro questa coda 
mia, Che al sozzo culo tuo la sia bandera. 

Var. II. 5 Ella è radice. 6 che in te se sacia. 

438 brush [64 

57. Merchant and Ass. 

.1. Per la ingordixia del grande guadagno 

L'aseno forte il mercadante preme 
Cum grave carcho e bote sieco insieme 
Che nel viazo vaga tosto è stagno. 
L'aseno alora cum piatoso lagno 5 

Morte dimanda, perchè vita teme, 
Querendogli mercede ver lev gieme, 
Che de fatica gli faça sparagno. 
L'aseno muore e delà pelle sua 

Perforando sen fa cribelli e ancho 10 

Fassi tamburi che giama non mua 
La man sonante de dargli nel fìancho. 
Sì che a più penne la morte largua, 
Che nela vita è di soperchi i stancho. 
Guardi da rompre an chi nuoce sua vita, 15 

Ch'el non à possa chi non la merita. 

II. Oidi che l'asinelio si lamenta 

Che non può più durare al istintore, 

Per che ogni dì porta pena mazore, 

Cum più va nanti e tutora più stenta. 

Morte dimanda né più s'argumenta, 5 

E quando morte fa stente pegiore. 

Simelemente vien el pecatore, 

Che in questo mondo mai non si contenta, 

Tutora prega Dio : "Fame morire," 

Né può portar in pace la sua penna. 10 

E Dio più pena gli fai soffrire, 

Poscia al inferno l'enemico il mena, 

E sostinir convien tanti martire, 

Che tintinar gli face polpa e vena. 

Portate in pace Tafano del mondo, 15 

Se volete goldere ib ben jocundo. 

Var. I. 4 Voi che nel vi agio vada dritto e stagno. 16 Per che 
alcun poi non trova che l'aita. 


58. Stag and Oxen. 

I. Il cervo mosso dal latrar di cani 
Iscì del boscho et intrò nel bovile. 
"Sicur serebe tropo più tuo stille, 

Gli disse i buovi, nei buoschi lontani, 
Se ala mia guardia cadi tra le mani, 5 

Perir te converà di morte ville." 
El cervo scoxo tanto stet'e humile 
Che la guardia schivò quela dimani. 
i ; "Niente ay facto, disse i bovi al cervo, 

Per schivar mo tua vita ma comuna 10 

Ti fia di schivar Argo come il servo." 

Argo pasciando i buoi che dizuna 

El cervo vide, e luy prexe protervo, 

Rigraciando il don delà fortuna. 

No francho è bando di possenti vegliare 15 

Smarir di servi e di piatoxi aidare. 

II. Or vedi il cervo per la gran padura 
Esser coi bovi nela stalla chiuxo, 

Et allo i bovi coperto col muxo 

Di feno per schivarlo da sciagura. 

Primo il famiglio schivò per ventura, 5 

Ma non ebe sì coperto per tuxo, 

Che dal vedere d'Argo fosse schuxo, 

Unde perì per la soa cornatura. 

Cossi l'uomo che nel vicio vive, 

E stassi chiuxo neli gran pecati, 10 

El prete fuze cum mente cative, 

Quanto più vive tra gli scelerati. 

Ma non bisogna che da Dio si scive, 

Coluy il vide e cazal tra damnati. 

Di star nei vicii ciaschadun se guardi, 15 

Se d'Argo vuol schivar gli tristi dardi. 

Var. I. 15-16 Temer che è in bando, il possente vigliare, Dormir 
il servo, l'huom pio suol aitare. 
Var. II. 11 con voglie cative. 

440 brush [66 

59. Jew and Cupbearer. 

I. Un Judeo vi portava un gran texoro, 

Temendosi com el re s'acordava. 
El suo siscalco il re si comandava 
Per scorta sua, et a luy vene in coro 
De luy robare, ucidere e tor l'oro. 5 

Intanto le perdice inde volava, 
'•Queste palexe, il Judeo gli parlava, 
Ti farà avanti .il re al concistorio." 
Mangiava il re un giorno una perdice, 
El sesalco la vide e mosse un rixo. 10 

Per che se ride, il re al pincerna dice. 
Coluy per tema il vero conta e dixo, 
La donde il re luy fé metre a pendice, 
Per che dal suo comando era divixo. 
Non esser homicidia per moneta, 15 

Ch'el tuole aspra ruyna vita leta. 

IL Inubidenza, cupido e falsitate, 

Insieme col dimoino in una roza, 
Fece al pincerna stringere la stroza 
Che lasciò per superbia humilitate. 
Doucha lasciate star le vanitate, 5 

Che i ben mondani non vi sotopoza, 
Attendete solamente ala goza, 
Che Dio vi manda per sua caritate. 
Credete vuy che le predice dorma 
A fare a Dio le malicie palexe 10 

Vive e rostite al ver non muta forma. 
Contra justicia voler far contexe, 
Fate le mente che non si disforma 
Ch'el gran guadagno mostra mate spexe. 
Fa che per robba mai non rompi fede, 15 

E non serai de Machometto herede. 

MS. II. has line 12 before Une 13 and Jacks lines 15-16. 

Tar. I. 4 e quel per suo ristoro. 5 Pensò de occider quello e 
tuorli l'oro. 12 II vero conta con pauroso viso. 16 Che aspra ruina 
tuole vita lieta. 

Var. II. 1 Inobidientia e avara infideltade. 12 defese. 


60. Knight and Peasant. 

I. Sentenciato il citadino vechio 

Accusato per ladro al suo signore, 
Che in canpo possa metre un feritore 
Contra l'averso di gioventù spechio, 
Non trova algun che voglie esser parechio. 5 

Intanto gonse un suo laboratore 
Di terra, il qual cum grave furore 
Tolse l'impresa per l'antico techio. 
In campo vene contra il cavalieri 

E d'un bastón gli dedi si sul brazo 10 

Che tramortito cade sul sentieri. 
Disse il vilam: "Or ti leva viazo 
E tu medesmo ti fa menzognieri, 
O periray dal mio pésente mazo." 

La raxon delà forza non fa sogna, 15 » 

L'amico si conoscie ala bixogna. 

IL Invidia trista che prima sagliesti 

Nel alto cielo inseme cum superba, 
Quanta malacia oçi per te si serba, 
Ma poy che l'alto Dio tu offendisti. 
El buon vechieto accusar tu facisti, 5 

Per farlo soferire pena acerba. 
Nela corte del re dove sta l'erba 
Del falso seme che prima spandisti. 
Tu mandasti superba per te in campo, 
Justicia trabucar la fece al basso, 10 

Sì che mal riva chi segue tuo stampo. 
El bovolco che si ■ mostrava lasso, 
Quando il dextro se vide per suo scampo, 
El giovene fé di sua forza casso. 

Dir si solea: tal da, che non promete; 15 

Ancora: che chi induxia non remete. 

Var. I. 1 Licentia havendo. 4 Che delà gioventù sia freno e 
stechio. 5-6 che dicha me apparechio Per te, ma gionse. 7 con gran. 
8 vechio. 12 Hor te ne va in viazzo. After line 16 is a Latin 
couplet translated: L'amico vechio guarda non lassare, Né ti 
rincresca per lui fadigarte. 

Var. IL 2 tumida e superba. After line 16 cornes a Latin couplet 
translated: Nel tempo bono e dolce, la memoria Del male amico 
havendo la victoria. 

442 brush [68 

61. Capon and Hawk. 

I. Torna el signiore lieto dala caza, 
Fugie il capone quando il ve venire. 
Il sparavero gli cominzò dire: 
"Qual tema ti como ve, o mente paza, 

Che del mio sire la chiareta fa za 5 

Veder un puocho non può soferire. 

Vedi quant'è jocundo il suo redire, 

Che ogni malinconia da me discaza." 

El capon dixe: "La pena diversa 

Di mei frategli mi comuove a fuga, 10 

Che ti fa lieto quanto è più dispersa. 

Cossi lieto è zascadun ch'io mi distruga 

Nela maxon tiranna, aspera e perversa, 

Che mei e me alcigando manduga." 

Non ama i justi caxa de tiranny, 15 

Cai malvaxio signor piace gli engany. 

II. El capon fugie fuori dele porte 
Quando il signore vien dala foresta, 
Dicigli il sparaviero: "Que ti adesta 
A fugier quando il signor vien a corte?" 

Dice il capone: "I temo la sorte 5 

Che mey ucide et a te face festa." 

Corte tiranna may non fu modesta, 

Ch'el falso honora et al justo da morte. 

Coluy che serve Dio teme il nemico, 

E'1 pecatore col demonio sta saldo, 10 

Per che com esso participa el spico. 

E cossi il spariviero francho e baldo 

Sta quando sente il signior ch'è suo amico, 

E'1 capon fugie e scondesse nel spaldo. 

Tristi coloro che tiranni segue, 15 

Che corno vene e razo se dislegue. 

Var. II. 16 Che par poi come giaccio al sol si siegue. 


62. Wolf and Shepherd. 

I. El pastor col lupo s'acompagna 

E giuròsse la fede fermamente. 
El lupo ch'à la felle nela mente 
Pensò tra luy la perfida bragagna, 
E disse: "Il nostro amor forte magagna 5 

Quel can com el bagliar non c'el consente, 
Son dala febra tutor soffrente, 
Avanti voglio gire ala campagna; 
Se mi voy far sicuro e render francho, 
Per hostaxo quel cane tu mi dona, 10 

O l'amor nostro fie disperso e mancho." 
Al suo voler il pastor s'abandona, 
E'1 lupo, che de mal far non è stancho, 
Le pecore ucidando non perdona. 

Consa che ti bisogna, tienla cara, 15 

Più cha venin è la loxenga amara. 

IL Tristo coluy che si acompagnerà 

Coni el cativo che ben far non pò, 
Cum suo van tazo el te dice no 
Et a sua possa el te disertara. 

Se averay amico de te il partirà 5 

Per posser darti più tosto sul elio. 
Cossi il lupo il pastor consigliò 
Fin che le pecorelle divora. 
Se col demonio t'acompagni tu, 

Torati zù dala perfecta fe 10 

E nel pecato caciati pur su. 
E quando benne il t'à tirato a se, 
L'anima tuole quando non pò più, 
Nel inferno la porta dove se. 

Guarti dale loxingue amico sì 15 

Che salvi l'alma e non deserti ti. 

Var. I. 4 perfida magagna. 5 forte se lagna. 6 col suo latrar. 

Var. II. After the fable is a Latin couplet translated: Chi gio- 
venetto se usa ad alcun vitio, Quando el se invechia attende a 
quello officio. 

444 brush [70 

63. Merchant and Wife. 

I. El suo marito absente schozogato 

Fece la moglie, e d'essa naque un figlio. 
Quel ritornato vi parse bisbiglio 
Considerando che non l'à calmato. 
La moglie pianamente à dimandato: 5 

"Come avesti quel figlio?" A gran consiglio 
Quela rispuoxe, cum ridente ciglio: 
"Neve mangiay, e di zò è gienerato." 
Disse il marito: "Il vuo far mercadante." 
Menòllo nel viagio e quel vendió, 10 

Poscia s'en ritornò sano e aitante. 
Disse la moglie: "Dov'è il figliol mio?" 
"Per che di neve naque, il sol scotante 
A lo disfato, per la fede Dio." 

Consente la raxon che cossi sia, 15 

Che chi ingana, l'engano justo fia. 

II. Vedi quella cativa che vergogna 

A fato al suo marito essendo fuori. 
Quel ritornato come alegri cuori 
Che ben fornito avea la sua bisogna, 
La meretrice di zò non sogna, 5 

Portogli in brazo gli suoy disinori. 
Quel stupefato di perduti honori, 
A lev non diedi vilana rampogna, 
Accidia pregna di melenconia. 

Nassì fuor d'essa un malvaxio pensiero, 10 

Che l'uom conduce spesso in mala via. 
Adoncha lascia il perfido sentiero, 
Ingana e vendi, sì che tuo non fia. 
L'aspero peccato per lo qual si pero. 
Chi saviamente sua vergogna menda, 15 

Né a Dio ne al mondo non è chi'l riprenda. 

MS. II. places line 8 after line 13, the error being indicated by 
letters in margin. 

Yar. I. (1483, the 1479 ed. of the Bibliothèque nationale having 
lost this folio). 1 svergognato. 15-16 che justo fia Che chi inganna 
altri, egli ingannato sia. 


64. Peasant and Pluto. 

I. Crede il vi lari pagar la sua debita, 

Dagandosi ala morte vuol morire, 
Gran fredi e caldi cominza sofrire, 
Tempeste e neve per far sua finita. 
La morte non consente sua partita, 5 

Per far luy sostenir grave martire. 
Eccoti un vento perfido venire 
Che gli tuolse de subito la vita. 
El dimoino prexe l'anima sua, 

Che ley spectando siecho era rimaxo, 10 

E de gir al inferno molto argua. 
E riguardando çascun scolta e taxo, 
Poi si cridò : " Porta la puza tua." 
E cun gonelle e man si stropa il naxo. 
Non è digno il vilan delà citate, 15 

Fin al inferno non vuol sua amistate. 

IL El vilan non vuol più viver al mondo, 

E per morire fa sua vita lenta, 
Va per lo caldo or quando che più sventa, 
Tanto che de sua vita vien al fondo. 
Cossi il soldato quant'è più jocundo 5 

Tanto più nel mal fare s'argumenta, 
Morte noi vuole per far che più stenta 
E tal hora gli mostra grosso il brondo. 
Non si conosce questi topinelli 

Fin che nel soldo dura suo furore, 10 

E quando è cassi riman miserelli 
Abandonati da ciaschum signore. 
NèT ospetale vuol recever quelli 
Fina nel inferno fuge el suo puzorc. 
Ben che sua vita mostra bella vita, 15 

Certo nel mondo nonne la più trista. 

MS. II. 14 last half of line lacking. 

Var. I (1483). 11 E de addurla al inferno. 12 Riguardando 
ciascun di quella il caso. 15 se stuppa. 

Var. II. 15 bella vista. After the fable comes a Latin couplet 
translated: Entri in la nostra scola chiunque usare Voi con gli boni, 
e li altri lasse stare. 

446 brush [72 


Volume mio quel poco d'argumento 

Il qual tu spandi so che biaxemato 

Seray per zaschun lato. 

Per li sogieti di mortal peccati 

Non ti curare dil suo mal talento, 5 

Che coluy che non vuol fir consigliato 

Si riman scelerato. 

E nele fine vasi tra damnati 
' Ay doloroxi tristi sciagurati, 

Che non cognose comme il mondo attento, 10 

Per gir come fa il vento. 

Si sta non aspetando il più beato, 

Tirando al fondo quel che maior stato, 

E nel mal fare pur si stan fichati. 

Quando sie condemnati, 15 

Riposseràssi poscia nel tremento, 
> Se biaxemato fia il compilatore, 

Di star in tal errore. 

Però non fia scuxato quel che falla, 

C'el suo vitio non calla, 20 

Che simigliante del predicatore. 

Or sta constante sì che non si stalla, 

Di mandar la tua balla, 

Dov'è più turba di gran peccatore, 

Che gli mostra il terore. 25 

Che nel profondo dove non si balla. 
^ Dimanda perdonanza a cuy recresse 

Le tue parole messe 

Disordinate fuori di tua rima, 

Ma nondimeno fa ch'el si sublima 30 

L'efecto al alta cima, 

Sì che del tuto non sio sottomesse. 

Var. 10 che non vedete. 12 Aspettando di voi el. 1479 ed. at 
Bibl. Nat'le ends with line 22; the 1483 edition shows no further 
variations of importance. 



Qui si concimile il tìn del opra mia, 
Che si contene avanti nel principio 
Del polito hedifficio, 
Ch'el buon doctore mi donò luy stesso. 
examinato in omni allegoria 5 

Coliendol il fiore per lo primo indicio, 
E per lo beneficio 
Il fructo retentivo o fermo messo, 
L'un dopo l'altro seguitando apresso, 
Per haver doppo il fin qualche memoria. 10 

E per che questa ystoria 
Per me vulgarizando è posta in rima, 
Cogliendo di sentencia la più cima, 
E in volgaro tracta dal latino. 
Olio nomato Exopo Zucharino. 15 

La sedia gussia buon noxiglo sconde, 
Dice il maestro, doncha providenza 
Habi in te et retinenza, 
Segondo che seguendo ti di chiaro. 
Prima ti veste de sue verde fronde 20 

Che tu debie honorare la scienza; 
La segonda sentenza, 
Che dal malvaxio ti sapi guardare, 
Però ch'el falso l'arte sa trovare 

D'ofendre al justo e però ti castica, 25 

Ancora ti faticha 

De schivar quegli che ruompe sua fede, 
Per che in ver de l'uomo n'à mercede, 
E guardati dal falso testimonio, 
Che pietà teme l'arte del dimonio. 30 

Figliol mio per la vana speranza 

Il propio tuo may no abandonare, 

E non ti compagnare 

A superbo huomo di te più possente. 

Homo cativo per anticha usanza, 35 

Caro figliolo, non l'alturiare, 

Xè'l scognoscente aidare. 

Al perfido tu fa simelemente, 

Se tu gli servi, il ti vuol far dolente. 

448 brush [74 

Né ti fidare in le parole blande, 40 

Ne al savio in vano scande, 

E godi ini pace quel puocho che ai, 

Che rich'è povertà se lieta l'ay. 

Ne il pover humo non voler contendere, 

Che lievemente il ti può ben offendere. 45 

Guardati ancora dala savia lingua, 
Che non t' engani e vanagloria scaza, 
D'amici ti percaza, 
E non voler sforzar la tua natura; 
Al pizol servi sempre a voglia pingua, 50 

Che in caso de periglio el ti rifaza. 
E fa ch'el non ti alaza 
Gravi peccati a far tra lor tua cura. 
Sempre del rio consiglio habi paura, 
E se sey francho, guarti da far servo, 55 

Che gli è dolor protervo; 
E sie contento del debito tuo. 
Se tu fay cossa, guarda il fine suo. 
Non esser vile figliolo per la gola, 
Ne matamente credi ogni parola. 60 

Coluy che più minaza, fa men fati, 
Però ti prego non esser di quigli. 
E credi ai buon consigli di tuoy parenti, 
E schiva tuoy nemici, 

Che la segonda volta non t'enbrati. 65 

Né pato fare a chi teme i perigli, 
Né in carta poner igli, 
Che temeroxi pati ven felici. 
Per ofender mai non s'aquista amici, 
E di pizol caxon gran mal discende; 70 

E però ti diffende 

Di iron far piaga che tu non voresti. 
A ben seguir l'efecto te rivesti, 
Né de l'altruy non ti voler vestire, 
Che lievemente polisti perire. 75 

Cativo minaza quando à tempo, 
E per la lingua nasce ben e male. 
Al mal factore non vale 
Di relasciare il vitio che in luy regna, 
El servixio non vai, se per tempo 80 


L'uopra non mostra il fructo sieco eguale. 

Chi vuol farsi cotale, 

Quanto el mazor a luy non convegna, 

Isteso abassa e fortuna disdegna. 

Or tiente a mente el benefìcio agrada, 85 

Ne la tua mente vada 

A voler farti quel che tu non sey, 

Né i beni mondani creder, che son rey. 

Servessi duy signori inutelmente, 

Questi castichi tienti nela mente. 90 

El malvaxio merita malia vita, 
Per invidia perisse chi rapina. 
Et in grave ruina 
Cade chi sprexia cossa che gli giova. 
Femina l'opra sua mal ve finita, 95 

E quel ch'ala bagascia se dechina 
Sosten gran disciplina. 
Cautela di doctrina è gran sapere. 
Fassi al cativo il possente temere, 
Gran segureza he haver chi'l può guardare, 100 

Nè'l tuo nemicho aidare, 
Ne libertà se vende ben per oro. 
Intende figliol mio questo laboro, 
E fa la mente tua sì retentiva, 
Che salvi i boni e li altri vici schiva. 105 

Nulla persona è asay per si medesmo, 
E tuto'l mondo par pocho al avaro. 
E non ti dubitaro 

Che malie ariva chi sua vita rompe. 
Se schivi el mese, si prompto al milesmo. 110 

Né per moneta homicidio non faro. 
Che mal convien rivaro, 
Chi la vita aventura per le pompe. 
Né per tema raxon non si corumpe. 
E l'amico si prova ala bixogna. 115 

Il justo non fa sogna 
Di far albergo in casa de tiranny, 
Per che dan fede a rey che uxa ingani. 
Chi utel ti fa tiente'l per caro, 
Luxenge tene per venin amaro. 120 

450 brush [76 

Tu ai canzon ben perfecto noxiglio, 
Sia pur secca la guscia quanto vole. 
Faciam poche parole, 
Ch'el tropo dir talora recresse. 

S'el nome mio alcun saper volesse, 125 

Digli che Azo è'1 proprio nome mio 
Or vatene con Dio, 
E franchamente mostra la tua arte 
E se tu trovi in parte, 

Che del pronome mio saper si lagna, 130 

Risponde il Zucho da Soma Campagna. 


Acme Library Card Pocket 

Under Pat. " Kef. Index File."